


Green Light

by LemonsandRosemary



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Bath Sex, Double Penetration, Esmé is surprisingly attentive and kind, Esmé spending money in lieu of flirting, Esmé spends yet more money, Established Relationship, F/F, Face Sitting, Fingering, Georgina is completely fine with it, Girls' Night, Jacquelyn is the only logical woman in this whole series and we love her, Olivia is getting there, Olivia is incredibly sweet I love her, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Shower Sex, Squirting, Threesome, Voyeurism, You Decide, accidental feelings, i like to think this is sweet and fluffy but, kissing in an elevator, poor olivia really does not know what she's in for, sex with feeling, so many hickeys, strap on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21705352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonsandRosemary/pseuds/LemonsandRosemary
Summary: Georgina and Esmé invite Olivia to join them one evening, and get slightly more than they bargained for.I report pedophilesDon’t interact with my fics if you post/read ageplay or sexual content that features minors, even if they’re aged up
Relationships: Georgina Orwell/Esmé Squalor, Georgina Orwell/Olivia Caliban, Olivia Caliban/Esmé Squalor, Olivia Caliban/Esmé Squalor/Georgina Orwell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Kiss Me Like Nobody's Watching

Georgina felt Esmé’s teeth sink into her neck and gasped. 

“Mmmhm, more please.” She requested. Heart pounding behind her ribs. 

She felt Esmé smile against her skin, “What do you want, darling?” 

Georgina tried to cobble together enough wherewithal to complete a sentence.

“Fingers, please,” was all she managed before desperately tangling her hands into Esmé’s hair and pushing her lips against the other woman’s. 

“Such a good girl,” Esmé purred. 

Georgina threw her head back, narrowly avoiding smacking her skull on the window behind her, “Esmé, _please_.”

Esmé grasped the back of Georgia’s neck with one hand, Georgina leaning into the sensation of Esmé digging her nails into her hairline. Esmé pulled Georgina’s thigh around her hip with her free hand, using her hips to push Georgina hard against the window.

“Esmé, I-” Georgina whined.

“I know, darling, it’s okay,” Esmé soothed, moving her fingers under the hem of Georgina’s skirt. 

Esmé edged her fingertips into Georgina’s wet heat, smiling at the gasp they elicited. 

“Let go, darling,” Esmé whispered into Georgina’s ear, before catching her earlobe between her teeth. 

Georgina whimpered as Esmé thrust two fingers inside her, feeling the rigid metal of several rings at the base of Esmé’s knuckles. 

“Fuck, Esmé.” 

She thrust her hips along the length of Esmé’s fingers, feeling her core jolt and hum. She tangled her fingers in Esmé’s hair and caught her lips in a desperate kiss, as Esmé’s thumb brushed over her clit. 

She heard a bang and felt Esmé jolt away from her. Georgina felt her core clench, sorely feeling the void Esmé’s fingers had left. 

“What-” she started before she caught sight of Olivia over Esmé’s shoulder. She saw the brunette’s face turn scarlet as she stood rooted to the spot. 

She buried her head into the stiff collar of Esmé’s suit, largely in order to avoid eye contact with Olivia.

“Absolute waste,” Esmé hissed in a tone that Georgina was sure was accompanied by an exaggerated eye roll before striding towards Olivia, who seemed to have found her legs and was hurrying from the room. 

Georgina gathered her coherence before shouting after Esmé, “You made me wait all day!”

Esmé wasted no time in glancing back over her shoulder to give Georgina a scathing look that somehow managed to have rounded edges that made Georgina feel like her core was made of honey.

“Tell her I’m sorry!” She added before finding her feet carrying her, almost of their own accord, in the direction of Esmé’s second favourite boudoir. 

Esmé stalked after Olivia, following her through into one of the kitchens. The one where everything was still midnight blue and copper. Copper flakes winked from within granite counter tops that were polished to a gleam.

“I’m really sorry Olivia, I thought you were coming at...” She glanced at her watch, “Oh shit it’s-”

“Yes,” she jabbed, “it is.” 

Esmé raked a hand through her hair, “Georgina and I are sorry, we just… got distracted. Can we just pretend this never happened?” 

Olivia nodded curtly, “We can.” 

Esmé winced, “Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes.” Olivia responded, arms folded, “But I’m not interested in _that_.” She added, waving her arms in front of her. Esmé took this to mean that Olivia preferred to have her sexual encounters in the privacy of a bedroom, rather than on an observation deck where the entire borough of Manhattan could see her. 

“Yep, uh-huh, gotcha.” Esmé diverted her gaze towards the floor. “So, I’m going to shower, but you know where the living rooms are,” she said, vaguely gesturing towards the exit of the kitchen, “make yourself tea.” She flicked her eyes at the kettle beside Olivia’s elbow. 

Olivia nodded. “Thank you, Esmé,” she responded, not impolitely, as Esmé backed, somewhat sheepishly, out of the room. 

Esmé thrust her hands into her pockets, and departed in the direction of Georgina and a shower. 

She was rarely embarrassed as a person, but Olivia had just been given a hell of a crash course introduction into hers and Georgina’s sex life. She felt blush creep up her neck as she thought about how it must have looked to have seen her pinning Georgina against the floor to ceiling windows with Esmé’s fingers inside her. 

Her heels clicked against the tile of the observatory as she crossed to her second favourite dressing room. 

“Georgie?” she announced, on entering the room. She heard the shower running and craned her neck to see through into the ensuite. She caught a glimpse of Georgina’s exposed back through the misted glass of the shower. She leaned against the doorframe and watched the other woman run her fingers through her soaked hair. She enjoyed observing Georgina when she was unaware she was being watched. Something about V.F.D. training put a person on edge in a way that was difficult to consciously revoke. Georgina rarely let her guard down, Esmé usually had to wait until the dead of night when she was fast asleep before she could watch her quietly breathe. 

Esmé’s chest clenched when she heard Georgina moan and watched her slip her fingers inside herself. She took a deep breath and coughed loudly enough that she hoped she could be heard over the drumming of the shower jets. 

Georgina stood up and whipped her head around before turning the shower off. 

“It’s rude to stare,” she scolded, smiling. 

Esmé smiled and stalked over to her, “Even when the view is so good?” 

Georgina pushed the glass door open, “Yes.” She raised her eyebrows, “Are you coming in?” 

“Can I watch?” 

Georgina leaned the top half of her body out of the shower, her hair dripping onto the tile. “If you’re good,” she said, imparting a lingering kiss on Esmé’s lips, before closing the door and turning the shower back on. 

A low hum in her core reminded Esmé just how much she liked watching as Georgina leaned her back against the tiled wall, giving Esmé an eyeful of jutting hip bones and water droplets sliding down her naked chest. Esmé caught her bottom lip between her teeth and reminded herself that she wasn’t allowed to join in. That was, unfortunately, precisely what Georgina had meant by being ‘good’. Her core protested at the lack of stimulation, she clenched her fists in her pockets, reminding herself that good behaviour was usually generously rewarded.

Georgina returned her fingers to herself and moaned. 

“This is your fault,” she teased, curling her fingers into herself. 

Esmé feigned offence, “You’re the one who can’t control herself.”

“No, you have to do that for me, apparently,” she laughed. 

Esmé watched Georgina push a third finger into herself as she dug her fingernails into her hip. She hissed and released her hip, using her hand to circle her clit. 

Esmé core dripped, she looked up through her lashes at Georgina, deciding to test the edges of ‘good’, “I’m getting cold out here.”

Georgina smiled and rolled her eyes, “Come in then.” 

Esmé stripped and wasted no time in falling to her knees underneath the shower spray and flicking her tongue over Georgina’s clit. 

Georgina gasped, “You’re so impatient, can’t even let me fuck myself.” 

Esmé hummed, refusing to separate her face from where it was buried in Georgina’s cunt in order to respond. She chose to grip Georgina’s hips rather harder than necessary, slicing her nails into the soft skin underneath them. Georgina liked to pick inopportune moments to ask Esmé questions, or needle her, usually forcing her to choose between having her tongue buried in Georgina’s core or snipping some kind of response. 

Georgina hissed. “That hurts,” she taunted, placing her hands over the other woman’s and forcing the jagged edges of Esmé’s nails further into her skin. 

Esmé nipped at Georgina’s clit, it was something that she rarely did, but it hardly seemed like a fair fight, with Georgina hurling insults while her mouth was full. 

Georgina yelped, digging her nails into Esmé’s hands. 

“Don’t be insolent, Esmé, privileges can easily be revoked,” Georgina warned from above her. 

Esmé felt the shower jets tingle at her skin and pushed her tongue further into Georgina’s core. 

Georgina hummed and tangled her fingers into Esmé’s hair. “More,” she commanded. 

Esmé flicked her tongue over Georgina’s clit and thrust two fingers into her, curling them towards herself. Georgina’s hips bucked and she clenched her hands in Esmé’s hair. Esmé closed her mouth around Georgina’s clit and sucked lightly, pondering the fact that it was a shame she was unable to see the way it made Georgina writhe and clench her fists. Although she supposed feeling the slick heat on her face was a close second. 

“Fuck, Esmé,” Georgina moaned, panting. She made a guttural noise as her thighs clenched around Esmé’s face. 

Esmé felt slick heat coat her face as Georgina’s nails dug into her scalp. 

Georgina’s grasp on Esmé’s hair slackened as her thighs relaxed. She let her head tip back against the tile as her breathing evened, ragged breaths echoing around the room. 

Esmé looked up at her, “You look good when you come.” 

Georgina grinned lopsidedly, “You look good on your knees.” 

Georgina watched from the edge of the bathroom as Esmé fiddled with a particular piece of her hair. It was in at the moment to pin one’s hair into particular shapes before blow drying to ensure a perfect sleek wave. She smiled affectionately as Esmé hissed low curses at the cowlick that plagued her every time she tried to organise her hair. 

“Don’t stand there and laugh at me, Georgie,” Esmé wailed. 

Georgina crossed the tile floor, still naked after the shower, but now dry at the very least. She took the pin from Esmé’s hand and put it in her mouth, while trying to wrangle the evasive strand of white-blonde hair. Georgina pulled the hair taut and pinned it into place. 

“There you go, sweet.” 

Esmé grinned, eyes gleaming, surveying Georgina’s form in the mirror, “What are you going to wear for our guest?” 

Georgina smiled, as she waltzed out of the room, “I’m sure I’ll find something.”

* * *

Georgina padded back through the observatory in search of Olivia. She supposed a genuine apology was in order, rather than a sarcastic comment shouted after Esmé.

She had chosen to wear an outfit that she would never normally consider after coming all over Esmé’s face, but she still thought of Olivia as someone she had to impress. Hence, she was wearing a tight skirt that ended just above her knees in a rich jet velvet. She had coupled it with a black blouse that exposed more of her collarbones than she would usually want a person to see, and an emerald green silk cover up, which covered precisely nothing, that Esmé had given her as a birthday gift. 

After searching a few rooms, she found Olivia wedged awkwardly in the centre of a perching couch in one of the cocktail rooms clutching a cup of tea. 

“Drink?” Georgina offered, pointing her eyes towards the bar behind the suede sofa. 

Olivia nodded, wordlessly. 

“What’s your poison?” Georgina asked, pulling out gin for Esmé and whiskey for herself. 

“I like anything that doesn’t taste like alcohol.” Olivia said, honestly. 

Georgina smiled, “Smart.” She opened the fridge and assessed the fruit juice within, “Do you like pineapple?” she asked. 

“That sounds nice,” Olivia said, placing the, now stone cold, tea on the glass topped table in front of her. She inclined her head to look at Georgina, heart fluttering behind her ribs as she saw emerald silk skimming her thighs. 

“I’m sorry,” Georgina said, busying herself with tipping various saccharin liquids into a cocktail shaker, going light on the alcohol. 

Olivia shook her head, “Really, it’s okay.” 

“It’s never my intention to expose you to things you have no interest in seeing. Or even things you do have an interest in seeing, without your consent.” Georgina set aside the gin for Esmé and carried the remaining glasses over to the couch. She sat next to Olivia, maintaining a polite distance, before handing her the glass. 

Olivia smiled and brought the glass to her lips, “This is nice. What’s in it?” 

“A lot of juice and not a lot of vodka,” Georgina confessed. 

Olivia grinned, “That’s fine by me.” She took a breath, “And really, it’s okay. Honestly.” 

Georgina sipped her whiskey, and propped her head up on her arm, braced against the back of the couch. 

“Have you ever done this before?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t crossing a line. 

Olivia shook her head, “Not in a long time. I was in a long term relationship for a while.” She took another drink. She wasn’t particularly inclined to discuss the extent of her entire dating history. Though she was the same age as Esmé, she couldn’t imagine that it had been nearly as interesting, but she remembered fondly some instances in her early thirties. 

“Monogamous,” she added, after a moment. She wasn’t sure of the particulars of Georgina and Esmé’s relationship. Or whether they had intended this to be more than a one night arrangement, but she figured the alternative was relatively common. 

Georgina nodded, and danced around the edges of discussing consent. They would all have to have a conversation once Esmé eventually flounced in after frying her hair and still, somehow, having it look miraculously perfect, but she thought it would be a good idea to ease Olivia into the idea that she might have to have this conversation in the first place.

“Well, you’re in control,” she began, “I mean, you get to decide the arrangements today. We’ll just do what you like.” 

Olivia flushed slightly, cursing having a complexion that seemed to turn scarlet from the ribs up every time she was even remotely self conscious. 

She smiled, and glanced at Georgina out of the corner of her eye. Taking a breath and deciding to be braver than she felt, she said, “I’d like to kiss you.” 

Georgina hadn’t anticipated feeling soft behind her sternum at the sight of the rounded smile from the other woman, perhaps she was too used to knowing precisely where Esmé’s limits were and how far she could test them. First times with someone continued to hold a certain kind of magic that she was immensely grateful she had kept a hold on. 

She gently weaved the fingers of her free hand into Olivia’s dark hair and inclined her head towards the other woman’s. She felt her heart leap in her chest as Olivia pressed her lips to hers. One thing Georgina had learned to appreciate was the way in which people kissed differently. Esmé was all teeth and tongue, usually stolen in bars and bathrooms, fiery and wet. Olivia was more patient and smooth. Her tongue flicked at the edge of Georgina’s lip, asking very gently for permission. Georgina opened her mouth, unable to resist emitting a soft gasp, which she was rewarded for when Olivia’s breath caught in her throat. 

Olivia reached out and rested her left hand on Georgina’s hip, steadying the jittering in her fingers. She smiled into the kiss, feeling Georgina’s tongue taste her bottom lip. She heard a gentle tap across the room and realised Esmé must have caught up with them. She pulled back from Georgina, cheeks flaming.

“Esmé, I…” _I’m sorry I’m necking your girlfriend?_ She had absolutely no idea what one was supposed to say in these situations. 

Esmé laughed gently, in a way Olivia hadn’t considered that Esmé Squalor, the City’s First Most Terrifying Financial Advisor, was quite capable of.

“It’s okay, darling,” she shrugged noncommittally, “it’s what you’re here for.” She pressed a kiss to the top of Georgina’s head, the brunette leaning into the contact, before taking her drink from the bar. Her heels clicked across the marble flooring as she crossed to Olivia’s other side and settled herself on the couch, legs folded beneath her. 

Olivia turned to face the fireplace directly in front of her, in a way that allowed her to avoid any direct eye contact from either of the other women that she was sure would reduce her to little more than an anxious puddle on the floor. She looked intently at the flooring that she only now realised was probably real marble, she didn’t dare to imagine how much tiling the wide floor area must have cost. The marble was satisfyingly unyielding and glittered in a bright ivory with copper veins. 

“Do you like it?” Esmé asked, unable to forgo an opportunity to discuss her rigorously selected decor, “It was imported from China, it cost a fortune.” Esmé took a sip of the drink in her hand.

Olivia could almost hear Georgina roll her eyes, “You can’t resist an opportunity to talk about the marble.” 

“It took me eight months to source it, Georgie, I’m allowed to talk about it,” Olivia’s stomach flipped as she realised Esmé had drained her drink. Though, looking down, she realised her own glass seemed to be half empty. 

Esmé left a pause that was precisely as long as social niceties required before jumping into, “So, shall we talk about this?” While flicking her eyes between the two other women, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

Georgina sipped more of her drink, “Usually, Olivia, we talk somewhat about how we would like the encounter to progress before we engage,” she explained, unsure of exactly where to pitch the conversation. She had no idea how used to explicit discussions of consent Olivia was. 

“We also talk about limits,” Esmé added, “I mean, you get used to those things I suppose, after a while, but you’re new,” and then, with all the confidence of a woman who had just drained two shots of gin, “We’ve already found one hard limit already, so that makes it easier.” 

Georgina shot her a look. 

Olivia exhaled a laugh, “It’s okay. That’s true, that is a limit. Although, I’m not really sure where else to start with other limits.” 

“That’s okay,” Georgina placed her, now empty tumbler onto the table with a clink. “It might be better to start more generally,” she flicked her eyes towards Esmé who nodded encouragement, “so you can talk about how you prefer to have sex. Rather than things you don’t like, necessarily.” 

“We can start, if that makes you more comfortable?” Esmé asked. Georgina had to reign in a sarcastic comment about the sudden appearance of Esmé’s compassionate side. 

Olivia nodded, “Okay, so what sort of things do you mean?” 

Esmé looked pointedly at Georgina. Georgina felt her heartbeat strengthen almost imperceptibly. She was used to discussing this kind of thing with Esmé, but there was always a certain apprehension that came with openly admitting her sexual preferences to someone for the first time. 

“So,” Georgina coughed and pretended not to be nervous, she fixed her eyes on the flickering of the flames in the fireplace. All the fireplaces in this abhorrently large apartment always seemed to be lit, though she never saw anyone actually set them, “I like digital and oral sex, and I don’t mind a strap on. Although I almost always prefer to be the one wearing it,” she glanced over at Esmé, who avoided her gaze and bit back a brash comment she absolutely would have made if Olivia weren’t there. 

“I prefer giving head to receiving it,” Esmé began, in far more vulgar terms, “Fingering is good either way, and especially good simultaneously,” she flicked her eyes at Georgina, a silent challenge lingering in her eyes, “and I like wearing a strap on, but as my girlfriend has just told you, it’s more often than not inside me.” 

Olivia suppressed a laugh, though she was beginning to realise that neither Esmé nor Georgina would have minded, and that it may have broken the tension slightly if she had allowed it to develop into a full-blown giggling fit. 

“Um, okay, so,” she considered slightly, this wasn’t usually something her partners asked her to discuss so clinically, “I like oral sex. Both ways,” she elaborated. “I like someone else to stimulate my clit for me, if I’m having penetrative sex.” She felt her ears turn red. “Fingering is good,” she cringed slightly at the term, feeling like a woman in her early twenties again. She wanted to elaborate more but she didn’t think she could face the embarrassment of saying anything else. 

“That’s good,” Georgina smiled and placed a hand on Olivia’s thigh. Olivia felt her nerves singe. She realised then that she was less anxious and more excited. Images flicked through her brain of herself with her head buried between Georgina’s thighs and Esmé’s fingers thrust deep inside her. Her mouth watered and her cheeks burned. 

Georgina felt colour rise in her own face and continued, “I don’t usually like to be touched while I’m coming, unless I initiate the contact.”

Esmé added, “I love being touched, you don’t have to ask for permission to do almost anything with your hands,” she caught Olivia’s eyes and gave her a look that made Olivia feel like she was about to be devoured. Although she didn’t think she would have minded. 

“I really like to be kissed,” Olivia said, dropping Esmé’s gaze. She still hadn’t quite nixed the self conscious buzz in the back of her brain, “While I’m coming. I mean.” 

Esmé couldn’t quite contain the delighted gleam in her eyes, she looked over at Georgina and bit her lip. Georgina mouthed, “Stop,” before running her hand through the tips of Olivia’s chestnut hair. 

Olivia had to stop herself leaning into the touch, reminding herself that they likely weren’t there yet. 

Georgina watched Olivia flicker her eyes closed. Her stomach flipped and she had to resist the urge to straddle Olivia’s lap and kiss her until she forgot how to breathe. 

“We should also talk about the last time we were tested,” Georgina broached, trying not to wince, this was always her least favourite part, “We get tested pretty regularly, you can look at the results, if you like.” 

Olivia nodded, “That’s okay. I got tested recently too. All clear.” 

Esmé’s usual impatience was surfacing, “Can we start please?” She tried to say gently, but it came out as much more of a whine. 

Olivia laughed, “Yes, please.” She drained the remaining half of her drink, smiling as she realised just how little alcohol Georgina had actually put in it. 

She followed the other women through to one of the many bedrooms in 667 Dark Avenue. She wasn’t in the apartment particularly often, nor was she usually allowed outside the designated gala spaces, so she was very aware of just how lost she was. Her internal compass could no longer even vaguely ascertain which direction the front door was in. Marble flooring slowly rolled into deep darpets that she sunk into like a shallow layer of fleecy cloud. 

Eventually, Esmé opened an unassuming door, well, as unassuming as any doors in Dark Avenue were. They all seemed to be polished to a midnight black gleam with lion headed knockers in their centre. As the door swung open Olivia caught a glimpse of a bed bigger than she imagined beds could feasibly be, though, now that she thought about it, it was entirely possible Esmé had it custom made for this very purpose. She tried to supress a hot flush as she realised that something about the idea of Esmé and Georgina having sex with other people made her feel juvenillely jealous. 

The room was dimly lit by a chandelier in the middle of the room directly above the bed, casting flecks of silver light across the bedding. The walls were painted a deep blood red, matching sheets that Olivia guessed were probably silk. Hordes of ivory coloured, vanilla scented candles flickered around the edges of the room, already lit. She almost complemented the decor before she remembered why she had been permitted to see it. 

She turned to her left, eyeing the rest of the furniture; a collection of plush suede seating was placed in the corner of the room, seemingly without purpose. As she turned, Esmé entered her field of vision.

The blonde placed her forearms on Olivia’s shoulders and leaned down to kiss her. Olivia’s breath caught in her chest as Esmé’s teeth grazed her lips. She felt hands in her hair, and it took her a moment to realise that they weren’t Esmé’s. She had to consciously remind herself to keep breathing as she felt Georgina’s hips press against her lower back. She allowed herself to lean against Georgina as Georgina’s hands strayed to her front and began unbuttoning her blouse. She made a small noise in the back of her throat as Esmé’s hands unbuttoned her jeans. The sensation of four hands brushing against her flesh was alien but the caress of cool fingertips against her skin made her think that she never wanted to undress herself ever again. 

Georgina pressed her lips to Olivia’s neck, darting her tongue forward to taste the salt on Olivia’s skin. She dragged her lips down the curve of Olivia’s shoulder as she pulled Olivia’s blouse off. She grazed her teeth against Olivia’s neck, asking for permission to nip harder. She heard Olivia hum affirmatively, and she sunk her teeth into Olivia’s neck. Olivia whimpered slightly but hummed again. Georgina pulled Olivia’s flesh into her mouth, aiming to bruise slightly. Olivia fumbled at her back grasping at Georgina’s hips, pulling her closer. 

Esmé took a step forward, feeling a hand grab her hip that she gauged, by the grip, probably belonged to Georgina. She edged her fingers at the top of Olivia’s underwear, which felt like it was lace. She grinned into the kiss, trying to guess before she opened her eyes what colour it would be. She would put money on red. 

Olivia pulled her face away from Esmé’s, the small amount of alcohol, and the much more significant amount of insistent pressure in her core had emboldened her the perfect amount. 

She looked into Esmé Squalor’s glittering obsidian eyes and whispered, “Fuck me.” 

Esmé grinned, her tongue darting over the edge of her mouth, “My pleasure, darling.” She leaned into Olivia’s ear, making eye contact with Georgina in a way that made Georgina’s core drip, “How would you like me to fuck you?” she asked, her lips grazing Olivia’s ear.

Olivia paused and reminded herself, sternly, that inhibition was not productive in these scenarios she tangled her fingers into the front of Esmé’s shirt and closed her eyes, still feeling Esmé’s breath on one side of her neck and Georgina’s lips on the other, “Strap on, please.” 

She felt the other women smile into her skin. Esmé pulled her face back, conspicuously flicking her eyes down at Olivia’s underwear. She had been right. It was a delectable shade of candy apple red that made Esmé want to remove it with her teeth. She allowed Georgina to fuss over Olivia while she pulled off her own clothing. Olivia turned to face Georgina and pressed her lips insistently against the other woman’s. She felt Georgina laugh softly into the kiss while she dropped the emerald coverup to the floor. 

“Olivia?” Esmé called across the room. Olivia turned to the blonde. “Come and choose, love.” 

Olivia crossed to where Esmé was standing in front of a tall chest of drawers which miraculously seemed to have no fingerprints despite being made entirely of mirrored glass. Esmé opened the top drawer to reveal a selection of toys that would fit in a harness. Seeing Esmé in nothing but a black bra and thong suddenly made Olivia very aware of her exposed midriff and shoulders, she was made very grateful that the room was dim as she felt her skin turn very hot. She peered into the drawer and picked a toy that she thought suited her preferences before turning back to see Georgina now clad only in a set of underwear in a shade of emerald that precisely matched the coverup she had now shed. 

“What do you want to do, Georgie?” she heard Esmé ask from behind her. 

Georgina grinned and crossed to wrap her arms around Olivia’s neck, she balanced her chin on Olivia’s head and answered, teeth bared, “I want to sit on your face.” There was an edge of demand in her voice that Olivia guessed was probably negotiated over many previous sexual encounters to have been precisely orchestrated to challenge Esmé just enough without feeling overly aggressive. 

Esmé pressed her lips to Georgina’s and brushed her frigid fingertips over Olivia’s hips. Olivia couldn’t help but give a sharp intake of breath at the sensation. It took her a second to register the sensation at her back, but as she did her stomach clenched. Esmé had already put the strap on over her hips and was pressing it into Olivia’s lower back.

Georgina put a finger under Olivia’s chin and tilted her head up to meet her gaze, she pressed a languid kiss to her lips while Esmé untangled herself from Olivia’s back and lavished herself over the bed. Olivia felt Georgina’s hand flick over her back and unclasp her bra. Olivia’s heart thumped in her chest as she felt Georgina gently tug the fabric over her shoulders and drop it to the floor. Her bare nipples brushed the lace of Georgina’s bra and she became very aware of how wet her core was. She dug the nails of her right hand into her palm, and tugged at Georgina’s hip with her left in order to prevent herself from delving her fingers into her core like she so desperately wanted to. 

“I’m feeling left out,” Esmé said from across the room, an edge of petulance entering her tone that Olivia couldn’t quite place as joking. 

Georgina rolled her eyes affectionately and took Olivia’s hand and led her over towards Esmé who was displayed on the bed like something plucked from a fine art gallery. 

Georgina clenched her nails at the back of Esmé’s neck, thrusting her tongue, far less than delicately into her mouth. Esmé giggled and tangled her hands in Georgina’s hair. Georgina reached underneath Esmé, who gratefully obliged, arching her back off the sheets, in order to relieve her of her bra. 

Esmé gasped a mumbled, “Thank you.” Before stretching her hand out to pull Olivia over to them. 

Olivia suddenly felt very self conscious. Seeing Esmé draped elegantly across silk sheets, like it was what she was born to do. Her ribs rippling, hips and collar bones jutting forward, Olivia was reminded in a very immediate way of the extra softness on her hips that came as the result of a desk job. 

Esmé flicked her gaze over Olivia, eyes gleaming, “God you’re fucking gorgeous.” Olivia felt herself clench, but she could tell by Esmé’s tone that the compliment was genuine.

Esmé clasped a hand around Olivia’s hip, pulling her towards the bed, before she hooked the edge of her finger into Olivia’s underwear, pushing them to the floor. Olivia felt her core respond to the cool air and the sensation of Esmé and Georgina raking their eyes over every inch of her body. She resisted the instinct to cover herself with her hands, instead crossing over to Esmé. She watched Georgina peel her own underwear off and was immensely glad seeing that Georgina also opted not to shave. She reminded herself that staring was rude and she approached the bed, not quite sure how she should start. 

“Can I?” Georgina asked, holding a bottle of lube. 

Olivia reclined on the bed and parted her thighs. Georgina squirted lube onto her fingers and spread the liquid across Olivia’s core. Olivia fluttered her eyelids closed and clenched at the chill. Georgina dipped her fingers into Olivia’s core and watched her gasp. 

Esmé dropped back on the bed and waited for the other women to arrange themselves. Olivia paused until Georgina had settled herself over Esmé’s face before sinking herself over Esmé’s hips. 

She gasped as the toy entered her, locking eyes with Georgina as Esmé delved her tongue into Georgina’s core. 

Olivia bit her lip, not yet feeling like she could make the amount of noise that she desperately wanted to. She fluttered her eyelids closed and focused on the rippling sensation entering her core. The pressure and intensity built further, hearing Georgina’s ragged breathing punctuated by moans. 

“Fuck.” 

It took her a second to realise she had made the sound. She opened her eyes, feeling herself cringe slightly. 

Her embarrassment cleared when she opened her eyes and saw Georgina grinding her hips obscenely into Esmé’s face. 

Georgina smirked at her lopsidedly, “Close?” 

Olivia nodded. Georgina threaded a hand into Olivia’s silky hair, and pulled her face forward to meet her lips in a hot, rough kiss. Olivia whined as she felt Georgina’s fingers ghost over her clit. 

“More, please,” was all she managed to breathe, before Georgina’s fingers were on her again and she forgot how to speak. 

What felt like seconds later, she clutched Georgina’s hips in her hands as she tipped over the edge. Georgina’s hand tightened into her hair and she felt Georgina moan. Georgina continued to kiss her while her breathing slowed and the electric tingling in her body mellowed. Georgina broke the kiss and moved herself off Esmé’s face. Olivia willed her body to allow her to move but she couldn’t help feeling like her core insisted on more. 

Esmé grinned, “Don’t worry darling, there’s more where that came from.”

Olivia felt herself blush, and moved her hips with a slick noise that turned her on more than she would like to admit. Georgina leaned herself against the headboard, fingers tangled leisurely in Esmé’s hair. 

Esmé flicked her eyes up at Georgina, face featuring a wicked grin, “Something tells me it’s not my turn yet.” 

Olivia felt some kind of warm glow at the way Esmé looked up at Georgina. She seemed vulnerable and delicate in a way that Olivia suspected that she was entirely not. 

Esmé pulled herself up from Georgina’s lap and looked at Olivia, eyes glittering, “So, what next?” 

Georgina looked at Olivia and tilted her head, asking her. 

Olivia flushed, “I’m feeling particularly jealous.” She flicked her eyes over Esmé’s mouth. 

Esmé grinned, “I can eat you out, baby.” She looked over at Georgina.

“I’m not done sitting on someone’s face.” Georgina said honestly. 

Esmé rolled her eyes affectionately, “Never satisfied.” She ran a finger along Olivia’s collar bone, before following her fingertip with her tongue, she grazed her bottom teeth along Olivia’s shoulder, eliciting a gasp from the other woman. Esmé trailed one of her fingernails across Olivia’s nipple. Olivia chanced a look over at Georgina who had the tip of her finger in her mouth. She heard herself whine and felt vibrations travel along her shoulder as Esmé moaned. Esmé brought her mouth to Olivia’s, pulling Olivia’s bottom lip into her mouth. It took Olivia a moment before she registered that the sharp edge to the kiss that she was tasting, was Georgina. She moaned, threading her hands through Esmé’s hair and pressing her face more insistently into the other woman’s. 

Esmé pulled her face away and smirked, “Who needs a towel, huh?” 

Olivia felt an embarrassed tension in her stomach that refused to dissipate until Georgina rolled her eyes and said, “We don’t need a towel when you aren’t here either.” With a pointed glance at Esmé. 

Esmé scoffed, “That’s unfair.”

“But it is true,” Georgina added, eyebrows raised. She flicked her eyes to Olivia. Olivia nodded and laid down on the bed, her head cushioned by feather filled pillows. 

She looked up to see Georgina towering above her as she swung one leg over Olivia’s jaw. She grinned as Georgina lowered her hips onto her face. Edging her tongue into Georgina, Olivia felt the residual heat from Esmé’s mouth. Olivia felt her breath hitch as she remembered Esmé and felt soft curls brush her inner thighs. She hummed slightly, trying her utmost to stay focused on swirling her tongue around Georgina’s clit as she felt Esmé Squalor lap at her core. 

Any semblance of embarrassment Olivia felt about any noise she had made earlier was quickly quashed listening to Georgina hiss and moan between strings of nonsensical prose. If Esmé had neighbours, Olivia would have been deeply concerned.

“_Fuck_, Olivia, ah, don’t stop, I-” She cut herself off with a strangled whine. 

Olivia felt Esmé flutter her tongue across her core and she realised just how close she was to tipping over the edge. 

She heard Georgina moan again, “Olivia?” she panted.

Olivia hummed, unable to feasibly answer. 

“I think I might, _fuck_, I think I’m going to squirt. Wanna stop?” 

Olivia felt her face flush, though she hadn’t considered it entirely possible given that she already had her head between another woman’s thighs. She considered for the briefest of moments before she dug her nails into Georgina’s hips, effectively pinning the other woman to her face. 

“Sure?” Georgina managed.

Olivia hummed affirmatively, feeling pressure build in her own core. 

Georgina tilted her hips forward slightly, coming the moment Olivia wrapped her mouth around her clit. Olivia felt a hot wave gush over her face, flattening her tongue and lapping up as much of the moisture as her mouth would allow, the remainder dripping down her jawline. 

“_Fuck_, Olivia.” Georgina moaned, hips bucking. 

Olivia pushed her hips more insistently into Esmé’s face and was rewarded with two fingers pushed inside her. She continued to slide her tongue between Georgina’s folds as Esmé curled her fingers and her core jolted. She moaned, overwhelmed by the sensation of Esmé between her legs and her tongue buried in Georgina. She felt her hips buck and her muscles clench as the residual jitters of orgasm fluttered through her. Georgina moved herself, somewhat gingerly, and sat beside Olivia, fiddling with a strand of Olivia’s hair. 

She allowed her arms to flop behind her head, chest heaving, “Esmé, what do you want?” she asked, eyes still fixed on the high ceiling above her. 

Esmé grinned, and clambered, somewhat less than gracefully, to lie across Olivia, “I want your fingers inside me,” she whispered, mere inches away from Olivia’s face. 

Olivia bit her lip and leaned into the slightly embarrassed edge she was still feeling, “Georgina?” 

Georgina considered, “I’d like to watch. If that’s okay with you, Olivia?” 

Olivia turned her head towards Georgina, and nodded. 

She turned back to Esmé and pressed her lips to hers. She tangled her fingers into Esmé’s hair and felt teeth graze her lip. She moaned into the kiss, feeling Esmé grind her hips against her thigh. She smiled slightly, truly realising how little space there was between zero and a hundred for Esmé. Esmé dug her nails into the soft flesh on Olivia’s chest, Olivia hissed but leaned into the touch nonetheless. 

Esmé whined and pulled away from Olivia’s face long enough to whisper, “Fuck me. Now.”

Olivia wrapped one arm around Esmé’s neck pulling her forward into a deeper kiss while sliding her free arm against Esmé’s stomach and down between her hips. Esmé moaned into the kiss and thrust her hips impatiently onto Olivia’s fingers. Olivia felt Esmé’s tongue press insistently against her own as she curled her fingers into Esmé. 

Esmé broke the kiss, panting, “Can I bite you?” 

In any other scenario, Olivia might have laughed, but looking into Esmé’s dark eyes, Olivia felt her core agree emphatically with Esmé’s suggestion, she nodded, tipping her head back to allow Esmé access to her neck. She caught Georgina’s eye and saw Georgina bite her lip before she fluttered her eyelids closed. She tried her best to focus on artfully flicking her thumb across Esmé’s clit while the blonde drove her teeth into Olivia’s neck. Olivia felt her skin vibrate as Esmé moaned, sucking at the flesh between her teeth. Olivia whimpered and added a third finger to Esmé’s core. 

Esmé bucked her hips more insistently, “More, Olivia.” 

Olivia pressed the heel of her hand into Esmé’s clit and curled her fingers sharply against the sensitive spot inside her. Esmé continued to grind her hips against Olivia’s hand and returned her mouth to the brunette’s. Olivia grasped Esmé’s hair like it would keep her stable as Esmé hissed and her thighs stiffened. 

“_Fuck_, Olivia.” 

Olivia felt her hand get slicker as Esmé came around her fingers. 

Esmé pulled her face from Olivia’s holding her gaze for a few moments while her breathing slowed. 

“You can take your fingers out now,” she smiled slightly. 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Olivia cringed as she pulled her fingers from Esmé’s slick centre. She scrunched her hand into the sheets, very aware of the fluid lingering on them.

Esmé trailed her fingers down Olivia’s forearm, “Can I?” she asked with a gentle tilt of her head. Olivia nodded and blushed furiously as Esmé dragged her tongue across her fingers. 

Esmé pressed a soft kiss against Olivia’s lips before collapsing onto the pillows next to Georgina. 

“Fuck me,” She said, offhand, to no one in particular.

Georgina laughed, and laid down next to her, “My hips hurt.” 

“No shit,” Esmé laughed, “You’ve ridden my face twice today,” she paused, as though working something out, “and Olivia’s once. How did you get away with that?” 

Georgina rolled her eyes but laughed regardless, “Olivia?” She asked, motioning to the space between them. 

Olivia smiled and clambered over Esmé to settle between the other women. Georgina grasped at the smooth sheets and pulled them up to Olivia’s shoulder. Olivia closed her eyes and allowed her head to flop back against Esmé’s chest. Georgina tapped her glasses onto the bedside table behind her before she laced her fingers through Esmé’s and fluttered her own eyelids closed. 

Esmé pressed her face into the top of Olivia’s silky brown hair, before mumbling, “Was it good?”

Olivia pressed her face into Georgina’s collarbone, hoping to disguise the look on her face, “Yes. It was really good,” she sighed. 

“You’re going to have some bruises,” Georgina added, hoping it would offer Olivia a chance to point out anything about the encounter she hadn’t enjoyed. 

Olivia breathed a laugh, “I’m completely fine with that,” she paused, wondering whether she should continue, though she supposed there was little point in attempting to remain secretive around two women who had just fucked her to within an inch of her life, “It’s been too long since I’ve sex that’s been good enough to injure me.” 

She heard Esmé yawn behind her, “We should change that,” she said, before sleep overwhelmed them.

* * *

Olivia woke up and yawned, rubbing her eyelids open before placing precisely where she was. She saw Georgina in front of her snoring gently, hair covering the bottom half of her face. She smiled and realised Esmé wasn’t behind her, she disentangled herself from Georgina’s grip and wandered in the direction of the en suite. 

She was grateful that most of the bedrooms in 667 Dark Avenue’s penthouse had en suites. Firstly, because she was currently very naked, and she didn’t like to risk someone finding her. She was sure Esmé had far more staff occupying the apartment at any one time than she let on. Secondly, because she didn’t rate her chances of actually finding a bathroom in any decent time if she were just dropped in a random hallway among literally hundreds that looked the same. She flicked the light on in the bathroom and was met with a polished white gleam that made her squint slightly given the dim lighting in the bedroom.

She toyed with skipping the shower but she couldn’t trust herself to feel clean after having had more sex than she quite thought possible. She stepped under the scalding shower jets, mercifully thanking some imaginary deity that the water warmed quickly, and allowed the spray to saturate her hair. She couldn’t suppress the rising tide of giggles from her chest as she thought about what her younger self would have said about the prospect of having had a threesome with two other women. Her core hummed gently as she was reminded of lingering caresses on her skin and far rougher thrusts inside her. She pulled shampoo from a shelf, unsurprised to find it smelled strong and not altogether pleasant. At a guess, she thought it might be lavender and some kind of essential oil. She rinsed it from her hair as quickly as possible before adding conditioner to rid the strands of the stiff feeling it left. She leaned against the tile momentarily, allowing her mind to wander back to several hands on her and what Esmé’s lips had felt like on her own. 

She poked her head out of the bathroom, trying to avoid letting her hair drip onto the carpet, to find the huge red bedroom devoid of Georgina. She pulled her clothes back on after locating them from various places around the room and ducked sheepisly back towards the front door. At least, she hoped she was heading in the right direction. 

She allowed her feet to carry her in a direction that she thought was out, and thanked a second, equally imaginary, deity when, a few moments later, she bumped into Georgina, wearing nothing but the emerald coverup from yesterday. She blushed and looked at the carpet. 

“Ah, Olivia, I was hoping I would catch you. Esmé and I are about to eat, would you like to join us?” 

Olivia shook her head, “Thank you guys, so much,” she wasn’t talking about the offer of food, “but I really should go.” 

Georgina nodded, “Sure, shall I show you out?” 

Olivia nodded, “Thank you.” 

Georgina led Olivia through the apartment, at a respectable distance, for a few minutes. Eventually they came to a kitchen with cherry red cookware and Esmé peering into the fridge wearing only a black silk coverup that matched Georgina’s. Olivia blushed slightly, getting an eyeful of Esmé’s soft thighs. 

“Hi, Olivia, love,” Esmé said, distractedly, still looking intently into the fridge. 

“Olivia’s leaving,” Georgina said. 

Esmé shut the fridge and strode across the kitchen, “Thank you for coming, Olivia. It was fun.” Her eyes glittered in a way that made Olivia suddenly very aware of the bruises blooming on either side of her neck. 

“Down,” Georgina warned in a low voice.

Esmé rolled her eyes, “It _was_ fun!” she insisted, before winking at Olivia.

Olivia smiled, “Thank you, for the invite,” she swallowed, deciding to be braver than she felt, “We should do it again sometime.” 

And with that, she turned on her heel and exited the apartment, closing the front door with a sharp rap behind her.


	2. I Wanna Be Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgina is lonely and invites Olivia over. Olivia feels herself start to fall.

Georgina reclined in front of the roaring fire in her Upper West Side brownstone and tried to convince herself that the reason she missed Esmé was entirely non-sexual. The blonde was supposed to have been away on business for three days, but it was pushing a week and she was still gone.

Georgina flipped the page in her book, desperately hoping the rough texture of the pages would recentre her brain and distract her from the insistent pressure in her core. She drifted a hand across her collar bone, thumb tapping a hollow rhythm on her skin, and couldn’t resist.

She pulled her phone from the glass topped coffee table and opened the camera. She fiddled with the buttons on her shirt, before tugging one shoulder off, exposing what she liked to think was a tasteful amount of her bra, before sending the resulting picture to Esmé.

Esmé responded almost immediately.

_Slut _

Georgina’s core clenched, more than she would like to admit.

Esmé sent a second text, picture attached.

_Miss me? _

The picture was, if Georgina wasn’t mistaken, taken in a public bathroom. Esmé pointed her phone camera at a landscape mirror, over a long counter with several inset sinks. White lighting refracted off marble flooring and sandstone tiles. Medium toned oak bathroom doors stood open, revealing empty stalls behind her. Georgina flicked her eyes over the background of the picture, trying to convince herself to look directly at Esmé. Reminding herself that the blonde couldn’t actually see her didn’t seem to be making her any less nervous. Esmé stood, in her signature pinstripe suit, one hand in her pocket, the other holding her phone. Her blazer had been unbuttoned revealing rippling ribs and her entirely naked chest. Georgina’s mouth watered. She wanted nothing more than to graze her teeth against one of Esmé’s pink nipples.

She texted back, a mixture of annoyed and incredibly horny.

_ I want to fuck you over that counter _

She pictured Esmé’s eyebrows shooting into her hairline, tongue darting over her teeth while she typed the response.

_My cunt misses you, darling_

Georgina sighed. The quality time she had planned for herself in her bath with her vibrator was starting to seem far less appealing.

Another text pinged through,

_Why don’t you call Olivia?_

Georgina’s heart raced at the thought. She hated to admit it, but since they had invited Olivia to join them once, Georgina hadn’t been able to get her mind off the brunette. Esmé was incredible, but she was starting to realise she was a woman who wanted to have her cake and eat it too.

Orange firelight glinted across the lenses of her glasses, as she chewed her lip.

_Am I allowed to?_

She considered for a moment and sent a follow-up text,

_Without you?_

Esmé sent her another picture. She was still in front of the mirror, blazer gaping open. This time, she had her hand inside the front of her cigarette pants, teeth gnawing at her lips.

Georgina felt her breath catch in her chest. Before she had time to craft a response, Esmé sent a third picture, this time with her fingers thrust deep into her mouth.

_And I’m the slut?_ Georgina shot.

_I don’t suppose I can particularly argue_

A second text came through

_Call her_

A third text followed shortly afterwards

_Take some pictures for me. If she’ll let you._

Georgina fired off a single text, heart pounding, fingers jittering,

_Of course_

She jabbed Olivia’s contact and tried to even her breathing while she heard it ring. She flicked her eyes to the ceiling, _please pick up, please pick up, please pick u-_.

“Hi, Georgina,” Olivia’s soft voice chimed through the phone.

“Hi Olivia,” Georgina said, almost forgetting to breathe. She couldn’t stop thinking about the tips of Olivia’s silky hair brushing her bare collar bones.

“What’s up?” Olivia asked, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder while she folded laundry.

“Are you free?” Georgina winced, preparing to be rejected.

Olivia’s stomach burned, “Um, yeah, do you and Esmé wanna… do something?” she danced around admitting what she really wanted.

“Esmé’s actually away on business right now,” Georgina leaned back on the couch, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t wracked with nerves.

Olivia frowned, “Does she know?”

Georgina pushed slightly, “She asked for pictures.”

Olivia blushed a fierce shade of deep scarlet.

“Not that you ever have to do that,” Georgina added quickly.

Olivia giggled nervously, “No, no. It’s fine. Well, maybe, I’ll see,” she paused, “But yes, please.”

“I’ll text you the address,” Georgina said, grinning to herself.

Olivia arrived about half an hour later. She saw the breath in front of her face as her heels clicked along the pavement in the dimly lit orange New York darkness. She approached the door she prayed was Georgina’s and knocked. Georgina’s house was relatively unassuming from the outside, terraced into a long line of brownstones, it didn’t particularly jump out at her. However, it was coated with purple flowering climbers twisting along the windowsills, a yellow glow glinting down at her from a second floor window.

Georgina opened the door, and felt her heart leap in her chest. Olivia smiled up at her, hair flouncing around her shoulders. Her hands thrust into the pockets of her tan trench coat, protected against the city chill. Georgina realised she hadn’t been misremembering when she pictured Olivia’s doe eyed, soft edged face.

Georgina stepped back, inviting Olivia into the house.

“Thank you,” Olivia smiled. Stepping into the entryway, she was hit with just how far the inside of Georgina’s house was from unassuming.

The entryway opened into a reception room with a roaring open fire. A pristine white staircase with a polished hardwood rail in a deep chestnut colour. Olivia couldn’t help the smile that split across her face.

“This is lovely,” she said, still surveying the artwork Georgina had on the walls. A head shot of a woman with stark white hair and obsidian skin that looked like poured carbon gazed down at her.

Georgina smiled, “Thank you.”

“Do you want me to take my shoes off?” Olivia asked, noting the pristine white rug that coated the floor.

Georgina exhaled a laugh, “You can, if you like,” seeing Olivia eyeing the rug she added, “don’t worry about it, Esmé has been vying to get rid of that since the moment she saw it.”

Georgina stood next to Olivia, slightly too close for a friendly stranger, Olivia took a step toward her.

“Can I take your coat?” Georgina asked, holding up her hands.

Olivia turned round and allowed Georgina to slide the item down her shoulders, feeling goosebumps rise across her skin despite the buttery warmth of the entryway. Georgina caught the scent of Olivia’s hair, something smooth and sugary, like vanilla and birthday cake.

“Would you like a drink?” Georgina asked, crossing to hang Olivia’s coat on a rack by the door.

“Tea would be nice.” Olivia felt inexplicably drawn to Georgina’s lips, and reminded herself that desperately wrapping her arms around the other woman’s neck probably wasn’t the best way to initiate contact.

Georgina nodded and led Olivia through the hall and down the sweeping staircase.

The ceiling in the kitchen was high and in the same pristine white as the rest of the house. White lighting reflected off gleaming eggshell toned marble counters with obsidian veins that looked like deep cracks. Georgina flicked the tap on, filling a kettle and placing it on the stove.

She turned to Olivia, “What kind of tea do you like?”

“Mint?” Olivia offered, not sure what kinds of tea Georgina was likely to have.

Olivia perched herself on one of the breakfast bar stools and observed as Georgina fiddled with a tea strainer and mint leaves. Olivia allowed the soft taps of mugs on the counter and the rustle of a cardboard box to soothe her as she waited for Georgina to turn around. She wondered, momentarily, precisely why she had been invited to Georgina’s house on a dreary Friday evening. Well, she knew specifically, she supposed, but that didn’t really tell her why Georgina had chosen _her_. She blinked slightly, trying to nix the section of her brain that seemed insistent on second guessing every nice thing that ever happened to her.

Georgina passed Olivia an ivory coloured mug, filled to the brim with steaming peppermint tea. Olivia felt her sinuses open over the curling steam.

Georgina raised her eyebrows, “I was planning on taking a bath tonight, if you felt like joining me?” She tucked a strand of Olivia’s dark hair behind her ear as she towered over her, standing close enough to kiss her.

Olivia fluttered her eyelids closed and nodded.

Georgina’s bathroom was breathtaking. A free standing bathtub looked over three windows that gave Olivia a wide view of the street below. Olivia sipped the tea, allowing the hot steam to fill her lungs, as Georgina ran the bath, tipping several expensive looking bottles of liquid under the running water. Olivia found herself gazing intently at Georgina’s strong fingers and delicately manicured fingernails. The bath foamed as Georgina dotted around the room lighting candles.

“What are they?” Olivia asked.

“Sandalwood and rose,” Georgina answered, trying to avoid getting her fingertips singed by a dying match.

Olivia smiled, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the street below. A greyhound trotted along the street, owner pacing behind it, reflective collar blinking as it caught the neon glow of street lamps. Olivia heard the faucet stop and turned to see Georgina shedding her shirt. Olivia’s mouth watered looking at Georgina’s sweeping collar bones and deep sapphire lace bra.

Georgina crossed to the window and slid a finger through one of Olivia’s belt loops, pulling her forward. She flicked her eyes down to Olivia’s lips as she unbuttoned Olivia’s jeans. Olivia followed suit skimming her fingers up Georgina’s spine towards her bra clasp.

Georgina gasped, “Your hands are cold.”

Olivia smiled, “I’m sure I can find a way to warm them up.”

Sinking into the steaming bath water, tea still clutched in her hands, Olivia felt slightly less self-conscious. Something about being covered by the bubbles, her muscles decompressing, made her eyelid drop closed.

Georgina pulled her phone from the counter behind her, “Can I?” She asked.

Olivia smiled and nodded. She leant her elbow on the edge of the bathtub, and rested her head on her palm. She smiled, head tilted. She felt her stomach flutter as she reminded herself that the bubbles precluded this counting as an actual naked photograph. She felt the water surround her, chill from the outside gradually receding as her blood warmed through.

Georgina smiled, sipping her drink, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

Olivia felt heat rise in her neck, she told herself it was the bath water, but the truth was that she hadn’t stopped thinking about them either. The feeling of Esmé’s strap deep inside her, while Georgina thrust her tongue inside her mouth clouded her day-to-day life. Getting herself off had been far less appealing of late. And, as much as she was avoiding thinking about it, it wasn’t just the sex. It had been a long time since someone so gently undressed her, or asked her what she liked, and had thought to ask what about it she liked afterwards. She felt distinctly looked after. It struck her as something that she had been sorely missing. She closed her eyes and breathed the scent of sage and bergamot bath oil deep into her lungs.

“I’ve missed you.”

Georgina felt her heart leap, she hadn’t necessarily anticipated Olivia to reciprocate the softer, more romantic side of her feelings.

Georgina finished her tea, and held her hand out to take Olivia’s mug, before placing them on the counter behind her with a gentle clink that echoed off the tiled walls. She leaned closer to Olivia, fingertips grazing the outside edge of her thigh. Olivia fluttered her eyelids closed, anticipating Georgina leaning her face in closer. A moment passed and Olivia almost opened her eyes, about to question the lack of contact, when she felt Georgina’s lips press, just barely, against her own.

Olivia leant into the contact, feeling her body relax further into the kiss. She tangled a hand into Georgina’s damp hair, feeling her core tense. Georgina opened her mouth and slid her hand further up Olivia’s thigh. Olivia pulled back from Georgina momentarily, watching the candle flames reflected in the lenses of her glasses.

She found her nerve and whispered, “Please.”

Georgina felt Olivia’s silken hair under her fingertips and danced her fingertips along the inside of Olivia’s thigh. She felt soft skin give under the pressure of the tips of her fingers, stomach tingling when Olivia breathed a soft gasp.

She trawled her fingers upwards towards Olivia’s core. Olivia could hardly tell where the temperate bathwater ended and Georgina’s fingers began, until Georgina’s digits thrust inside her. She exhaled, feeling the length of Georgina’s fingers curl inside her. Georgina pressed her fingers smoothly upward, where she knew Olivia desperately wanted them.

Olivia sighed and tilted her head back against the high rim of the bathtub, allowing Georgina to brush her thumb across her clit. She leaned back, tangling one hand in her hair and draping the other across her ribs, half submerged in the water, before wrapping her legs around Georgina’s back. Georgina smiled, humming softly to herself as she felt Olivia clench around her fingers.

“God, that feels good.” Olivia smiled and tilted her hips upward into Georgina’s touch.

Georgina smirked, “I am perfectly capable of being gentle where it is required.”

Olivia laughed softly, giggles echoing around the room, tinkling off the tile, “Want me to be gentle later?”

“Not on your life.”

Olivia gripped the edges of the bathtub, allowing her hips to rock in tandem with the strokes of Georgina’s fingers. Olivia gasped as she felt Georgina lean forward, tips of her hair brushing Olivia’s damp skin, teeth grazing her nipple. Olivia threaded her fingers through Georgina’s hair, keeping the other woman’s lips pressed against her skin. The soft strokes of Georgina’s fingers felt wonderful, but she couldn’t resist the impatient edge pressing her, telling her she wanted it faster.

“More, please, Georgina.” She moaned, telling herself the flush in her cheeks was a result of the warm bath water rising to cover her shoulders as she sunk further into Georgina’s hand.

Georgina smiled and crooked her fingers more intensely into Olivia, stomach fluttering when Olivia arched her back, her breasts pushing further into Georgina’s mouth.

Olivia pushed her hips forward, back protesting at the angle, but she arched her hips further when she felt Georgina’s thumb press, more insistently, over her clit. She felt the tingling in her core grow more intense as her walls clenched.

She emitted a soft sigh as Georgina pressed her fingers firmly upward, and she came, allowing her breathing to stutter, feeling Georgina nip at the soft skin of her breast. Georgina continued to press her fingers, more gently, into Olivia until the residual jutters had slowed, before pulling backwards, watching Olivia’s eyelids flutter closed as her core rippled.

“That feels good,” Olivia hummed. She blushed, realising how redundant it sounded.

Georgina smiled, endeared by how genuine Olivia was. She placed her hands either side of Olivia’s face, pulling her lips towards her own. Barely brushing her lips against Olivia’s, allowing herself to indulge in kisses that managed to contain the same intensity and passion that Esmé always had, but remained soft and languid in a way her passion rarely afforded. Olivia flicked her tongue over the edge of Georgina’s lip, sighing into the kiss and allowing herself to melt into Georgina’s arms.

She smiled and pulled away, flicking her eyes upward to look into Georgina’s stormy irises, “The water’s getting cold,” she whispered.

Georgina smiled, “Would you like to go to bed?” Olivia nodded.

Olivia didn’t think she had ever been so lavishly treated by a hook up. Georgina had swathed her in a fluffy white bathrobe and offered her more tea, which she had graciously accepted, before leading her through to the bedroom. She didn’t know what she had expected, but Georgina’s bedroom was gorgeous. It glowed with orange light, reflected off gold accents. The carpet was deep and fluffy against her feet, and the floor to ceiling windows opened onto a terrace that looked over a relatively quiet New York City street. She suppressed her urge to be polite and opened the door to the terrace, feeling the icy sting of the night air brush her throat. She did her best not to think about how the sheets were pristine, white, and looked very expensive. Far more expensive than a librarian's budget would allow for.

The roof terrace was dotted with plants, and a long string of ivy hung from the rail, swinging in the breeze below. She stroked her hand across the petal of a peach coloured rose, looking particularly out of place in a bouquet of white carnations.

“Esmé brought that one over,” Georgina smiled, wrapping an arm loosely around Olivia from behind, “I think she might have stolen it from the Met.”

Olivia laughed, “That does sound like Esmé,” she leaned down towards the flowers, a pleasant perfumed smell washing over her, “Does she steal lots of things for you?”

Georgina laughed, “For a criminal she doesn’t make a particular habit of theft,” she tugged at the petals of the flowers beside her, “Besides, there’s nothing Esmé loves more than splashing cash around, especially when she gets rewarded for it,” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Olivia smiled, there was something sweet about the idea of Esmé following Georgina around an upmarket boutique, flashing a credit card wherever necessary. There was something else entirely about the prospect of Esmé being rewarded for such a display of affection. She felt heat rise in her cheeks, thankful for the cool night air levelling her temperature. She heard a couple across the street laughing about something she couldn’t quite catch. Deep voices echoing off the high brick walls surrounding them.

“What kind of rewards does she get?”

Georgina laughed, “I believe American Express has a reasonably good rewards system these days.”

Olivia grinned twisting her body around to flutter her eyelids at Georgina, “She calls you American Express, huh?”

Georgina rolled her eyes, threading a hand into the short hairs at the nape of Olivia’s neck. She pressed her lips to Olivia’s testing the edge of Olivia’s mouth with her tongue. Olivia sighed and parted her lips, hovering her hands over Georgina’s hips. Georgina felt cool air drift over the back of her shoulder blades as she weaved her fingers through Olivia’s, pushing Olivia’s hand firmly onto her hip, before moving her arm to Olivia’s back. She pulled Olivia closer to her body, closing the small gap between them until she felt Olivia’s ribs press delectably into her own. Testing the edges of the kiss with her teeth, Georgina felt her heart race.

Olivia gently separated herself from Georgina, “Shall we go inside?” She had to try very hard not to use her vantage point to flick her eyes down the front of Georgina’s robe.

Georgina grinned lopsidedly and observed Olivia very carefully through her lenses, “You can look.”

Olivia tried, and failed, to prevent the flicker of surprise that flitted across her face. Once again she found herself cursing her tendency to exclusively sleep with people deeply embroiled in a secret organisation that required the ability to discern what any given person within twelve feet was thinking.

She glanced conspicuously downwards, feeling her mouth water at the sight of supple skin curved across Georgina’s chest. She dipped her head and dragged her tongue across Georgina’s skin, warm juxtaposed with the frigid night air. Georgina tipped her head back and made a low hum in the back of her throat.

“It’s getting cold out here,” Georgina said, somewhat redundantly. The temperature had yet to drop significantly, though it was late in the evening.

Olivia tilted her face upwards, looking up at Georgina through fluttering eyelashes, “Yes, please.”

Georgina weaved her fingers through Olivia’s, gently pulling her inside. Olivia marvelled again at the coordination of the decor. Georgina allowed Olivia to float freely in the middle of the room while she pulled a box of matches from a drawer and drifted around the room lighting candles.

“I like your room.” Olivia smiled awkwardly, feeling somewhat like a nervous woman in her early twenties on a first date.

Georgina smiled, pupils dilating while she gazed into the flickering wicks of the heady candles in front of her, “Thank you.”

She placed the matches down on the dresser, ensuring all the candles stayed lit before turning around to observe Olivia. She stood, somewhat stiffly in the centre of the room, choosing to remain remote from the furniture, like she didn’t want to spoil anything. Georgina placed her thumbs along the edge of Olivia’s jaw, pressing her lips chastely against the other woman’s. Olivia grinned lopsidedly.

Georgina whispered, “Fuck me.”

Olivia guessed her cheeks probably turned a similar shade of orange to the candlelight flickering around them, glowing off burnished umber walls. She nodded, tilting her head upwards to capture Georgina’s lips in a deeper, more desperate, kiss. She heard herself moan, feeling a sense of raw desperation in the pit of her stomach that she hadn’t realised she was quite capable of. Particularly having already come once.

Georgina fumbled with the tie on Olivia’s robe, determined to skim her hands against the warm flesh beneath. The white towelling hit the floor with a soft thump and Olivia used the brief distance between them to tangle her own fingers into Georgina’s robe and shift it off the other woman’s shoulders onto the floor.

Georgina pushed Olivia backwards with small steps, not allowing herself to break the kiss, tongue testing the edge of Olivia’s teeth. She allowed Olivia to shuffle herself up towards the headboard before she steadied her body above the other woman’s, arms braced against the mattress. She wanted to think they might at least have made it underneath the blankets. She knew they wouldn’t.

Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as she processed the image of Georgina haloed by the orange glow of candles, gold accents glinting in her peripheral vision.

She swallowed, “You’re beautiful.”

Georgina met Olivia’s gaze and leaned forward, tucking a strand of Olivia’s hair behind her ear, “You look positively angelic, my dear.”

Olivia arched her back, pressing her body into Georgina’s, tangling her hands into Georgina’s hair and scraping her teeth along the other woman’s lips as hard as she dared. She felt Georgina moan as she pressed the tip of her thumb along the edge of Georgina’s jutting hip bone. Georgina felt all semblance of rationality escape her, as she settled her hips onto Olivia’s thigh, grinding her core insistently. Olivia felt slick heat coat her skin as Georgina tipped her head back, neck exposed. Olivia blushed as a series of images flashed through her brain regarding precisely what she would like to do to the delicate skin Georgina had exposed. Olivia’s mouth watered as her gaze skimmed Georgina’s midriff and hips. She brushed her fingertips along Georgina’s hips, feeling the uneven texture of jagged stretch marks on her skin.

Georgina moaned, still grinding her core along Olivia’s thigh, “You can grab me harder than that, if you like,” she offered with a smirk. Olivia obliged and tensed her fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath them, leaving small pink marks underneath her nails.

Georgina slid a hand up Olivia’s thigh feeling her smooth ribcage before her fingertips caught the swell of her breast. Olivia held her breath as Georgina dragged her fingernails across her skin. Georgina smoothed her thumb over Olivia’s nipple, delighting in the way it caused Olivia to flutter her eyelids. Georgina watched Olivia exhale shakily as she arched into the touch.

She leaned down, bringing her lips to meet Olivia’s. Olivia grinned into the kiss and trailed her fingertips up Georgina’s thigh. Georgina hummed an affirmative noise, desperate not to break the kiss, though she couldn’t help but gasp when Olivia slipped her fingers inside her. Olivia threaded the fingers of her free hand into Georgina’s hair and pulled slightly harder than she usually would have allowed herself. Georgina hissed and rewarded Olivia by languidly dragging her tongue across Olivia’s teeth.

Olivia curled her fingers, trying to emanate Georgina’s fluid movements from earlier. She felt herself glow when Georgina moaned. Georgina continued to grind herself on the heel of Olivia’s hand. She had waited very patiently while she lavished Olivia with attention, and she was not in the mood to wait much longer.

She pulled away from Olivia’s face, “More, _fuck_, Olivia, I want more of your fingers inside me,” she said between gasps.

Olivia grinned and added a third finger to Georgina’s core with a slick noise that made her mouth water. Georgina dug her fingernails into Olivia’s flesh as she rocked her hips more insistently. Olivia curled her fingers more severely, feeling for the patch of ridged flesh that would point her toward where her fingers should be.

She knew she had found it when Georgina whined, “Oh, fuck _Olivia_. Harder.”

Olivia pushed her fingers more insistently upward, delighting in the noise it elicited from the other woman.

Georgina thrust her hips faster and made a low noise in the back of her throat, “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Olivia felt herself flush as Georgina’s core clenched around her fingers. Olivia felt wet heat coat her hand as Georgina bucked her hips.

Georgina moaned, “Your fingers feel so _fucking_ good Olivia,” continuing to ride the other woman’s hand as the jolting in her core slowed.

She slowed her movements, continuing to enjoy the feeling of Olivia’s fingers inside her, despite having already come. Olivia smiled, warmth pooling in her abdomen. It had been far too long since she had consistently had sex with women, she forgot how much she enjoyed the ability to tip someone artfully into an orgasm.

“Want me to keep going?” she offered. Desperately hoping Georgina would say yes.

Georgina bit her lip. On one hand it was an incredibly tempting offer, on the other she couldn’t help but lament the fact that she still had no idea what Olivia tasted like. She moved herself off Olivia’s fingers and collapsed beside her, one hand tangled in her hair, the other on her hip.

She brought her face close to Olivia’s, pressing her body flush against the other woman’s, “I’d like to taste you.”

Olivia felt her core flush with heat, “Yes, please.”

Georgina flicked her eyes down to Olivia’s lips, maintaining her distance, challenging Olivia to kiss her.

Olivia obliged wonderfully. She threaded her fingers into Georgina’s hair, completely forgetting the fact that one of her hands was still coated in come, and moaned into the kiss. She gently placed one of her legs over Georgina’s ribcage, savouring the warmth from Georgina’s skin radiating through the sensitive flesh on the inside of her thigh. Georgina smiled and skimmed her fingers over Olivia’s stomach, feeling a rounded softness beneath her fingertips that she enjoyed dearly. Olivia gasped as she felt Georgina drift her cold fingers across her hip and down between her thighs. She tilted her hips forward, desperate for Georgina to thrust her fingers inside her. Georgina ghosted her fingers across Olivia’s core, teasing the contact Olivia wanted so badly.

Olivia pulled her face back, “Please.”

Georgina smiled, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Georgina pressed a kiss to Olivia’s lips before pushing herself down the bed and scraping her teeth along Olivia’s thigh. Olivia gasped and instinctively reached a hand out to grasp Georgina’s hair. Georgina dragged her tongue agonisingly slowly up Olivia’s thigh.

Olivia whined, “Georgina please.”

Georgina smiled and delved her tongue into Olivia.

Olivia moaned and bucked her hips, “Fuck me,” she instructed, not allowing herself the time or the coherence to be embarrassed. Georgina lapped her tongue at Olivia’s clit and thrust two fingers inside her.

Olivia screwed her eyes shut, trying to keep her voice steady and comprehensible, like she didn’t desperately want the other woman to fuck her until she forgot her own name, “More, Georgina, I want more.”

Georgina obliged, adding a third finger and sucking Olivia’s clit. Olivia arched her back and used the hand in Georgina’s hair to grind her hips onto Georgina’s face. She moaned and tried to convince herself that this wasn’t what she wanted every time she came for the rest of her life. She threaded her second hand into Georgina’s hair tightening her grip and whining when Georgina curled her fingers and wrapped her mouth around her clit.

“I- ah-” she let out a strangled whine and came on Georgina’s face.

Georgina continued to drag her tongue languidly across Olivia’s core while pressing her fingers into her until she collapsed, finally, and released Georgina’s hair from her grip.

Georgina clambered across Olivia’s body before flopping beside her, wiping her mouth on the palm of her hand. Olivia remained where she had fallen, still breathless and exhausted.

Georgina laughed, “There’s come in my hair.”

Olivia winced, feeling herself blush, “I’m sorry.”

Georgina slid her arm across Olivia’s chest, “Don’t apologise, my alternative plans were entirely solitary. I’d much rather have come in my hair.”

“Was this better than your alternative plans?” Olivia asked, desperately hoping for the answer she wanted.

Georgina sat up, gazing down at Olivia like she was the only other woman on earth, “Of course it was.” She ran the edge of her thumb along Olivia’s jawline. Olivia tilted her face upward, the look in her eyes asking Georgina to kiss her. Georgina smiled and placed her hand against the back of Olivia’s neck capturing her in a kiss that was deeper than she had intended. Olivia wrapped her arms around Georgina’s neck and arched into the contact, a low moan reverberating in her throat. Georgina allowed herself to settle into the pillow next to Olivia, keeping the kiss intact and pressing herself into the other woman. Olivia lost track of time until she woke herself up slightly.

The lights in the bedroom had been switched off, but flicking her eyes towards the dresser she saw that the candles had remained lit, burned down almost to their holders. She peeled herself out of bed and blew the remaining flames out before fumbling around the night stand for her phone and padding back down the hallway towards the bathroom.

She washed her hands and rinsed her mouth out, splashing some warm water on her face before looking at her phone.

It was 1:52 and a text from Jacquelyn, received three hours ago, flashed across her screen.

_How did it go??_

She smiled slightly and texted back,

_I’m still at her place, so, well, I guess? _

She didn’t anticipate Jacquelyn still being awake, so she made her way back through the brightly lit hallway into the warm bedroom, fluffy carpet caressing her heels. She found a light switch by the door and plunged the corridor into inky blackness, save for the glow of the street lights projected across the floor. She tapped her phone back onto the night stand and slid between cotton sheets that felt like clouds and wrapped her arms around Georgina, who she noted had also made her way under the blankets.

Georgina stirred slightly, “You okay?” she mumbled.

Olivia nodded and buried her head in Georgina’s chest.

* * *

Sun streamed through the windows, waking Olivia up slightly earlier than she would have liked, given how late she had been awake the previous night. The deep orange wall took on a lighter tone in the white of the morning sun, reminding Olivia of clementines and marigolds. She looked across the bed to see Georgina, still sleeping, face buried in the gap between her pillows.

Olivia’s phone buzzed behind her. She snatched it from the table, hesitant to want to wake Georgina, and saw a text from Jacquelyn,

_Omg call me! _

Olivia smiled and slipped the white robe on from where it had landed on the floor and strode down into the kitchen.

She perched herself on one of the high bar stools, feeling a slight chill radiate up from the marble flooring through her calves.

She jabbed Jacquelyn’s contact and listened to it ring.

Jacquelyn picked up almost immediately,

“Oh my God, Olivia!” Jacquelyn all but squealed down the phone, “Tell me everything”

Olivia rolled her eyes but jumped at the chance to gush about Georgina, “It was mind-blowing. I genuinely think I gained years of my life. No wonder Esmé looks like that,” she added somewhat flippantly. She kept her voice low and strained her ears for any sound of the other woman from upstairs, “but she’s so _nice_ Jacquelyn.” She flopped her head forward onto her arm, which was folded across the granite counter.

Olivia could almost hear Jacquelyn raise her eyebrows, “Oh this isn’t happening.”

Olivia bit her lip, and mumbled into her arm, “I think it’s happening.”

“But she’s with Esmé, right?” Jacquelyn asked, slightly more than mildly concerned.

Olivia chewed the inside of her mouth, feeling her flesh start to disintegrate under the jagged edges of her teeth, “Esmé is kinda nice too.”

“Oh,” Jacquelyn said, now following, “is that an option?”

Olivia sighed, “I don’t know. I think I want it to be, though.”

Jacquelyn dropped her voice, “You have to talk to her Olivia,” she cut Olivia off when she tried to protest, “I will not sit by while you pine over these women.”

Olivia winced, “Okay, okay. I’ll do it. Maybe.”

“I have to go to work,” Jacquelyn said. Olivia heard a set of keys jangle, “but follow up with me later,” she laughed quietly, “I assume she’s making you breakfast?”

“Shut up,” Olivia jabbed.

Olivia tapped the phone onto the counter top as she heard Georgina upstairs. She felt a nervous tinge in her stomach as she saw Georgina around the edge of the staircase.

“Good morning,” her voice floated down through the kitchen, “How did you sleep?”

Olivia smiled, watching Georgina wrap her fingers around the banister, skin glowing as she sauntered down towards her, “Really well, thank you.” Olivia flicked her eyes downward and saw another text from Jacquelyn flash up on her screen,

_Exactly how mind-blowing are we talking, by the way? I absolutely need more details. _

Olivia felt her ears turn red as she hurriedly turned her phone over, screen against the counter top.

Georgina stretched her fingertips out and brushed them against Olivia’s forearm, “What would you like to eat?”

“I eat pretty much anything,” Olivia offered.

Georgina nodded and began to pull ingredients from her fridge. Georgina took the opportunity to talk to Olivia while her back was turned and Olivia wouldn’t be forced to make eye contact.

“Did you have fun?” she asked, hoping her tone remained relatively neutral.

Olivia looked at the ceiling, remembering Georgina’s fingers buried inside her while her tongue fluttered over her clit and just how hard she had come, “Mhm, yes, it was great,” she watched Georgina pull a frying pan from a rack above her, “Did you? Have fun, I mean?” she felt herself turning pinker by the moment.

Georgina shot Olivia a look over her shoulder while drizzling olive oil into a pan, “I did,” she smiled, “Would you like a drink?”

Olivia nodded, “Do you have coffee?”

“Of course,” Georgina answered, crossing to flick a switch on an expensive looking coffee machine. It made Olivia slightly nervous that Georgina neglected to ask how she took her coffee but when she was presented with a cup of foamy, vanilla flavoured liquid a few minutes later, she felt soft around the edges.

“How did you know?” she asked.

Georgina smiled, “Sometimes you can just tell.”

Georgina busied herself scrambling eggs and slicing an avocado. She toasted corn tortillas over an open burner before artfully arranging the whole affair on a squared serving plate and placing it between the two of them and handing Olivia a set of cutlery.

“You’re a good cook,” Olivia said, gently swinging herself from side to side on the barstool, trying not to sound mildly surprised.

Georgina laughed softly, “When you spend copious amounts of time with Esmé Squalor, you have to learn to cook.” She tilted her head nonchalantly, “Unless you want a member of household staff to cook for you the morning after being fucked to within an inch of your life.”

Olivia snorted, cursing her nervous laugh, “I can’t imagine I would want that.”

“I only let it happen once,” Georgina disclosed. She took a breath before continuing on a tangent, “I spoke to Esmé last night.”

Olivia’s stomach tensed, “Oh?”

“She called after we fell asleep,” Georgina remembered Esmé giggling down the phone when Georgina had recounted falling asleep with her lips pressed against Olivia’s.

_“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Esmé smiled. _

_Georgina breathed shakily, “I like her a lot,” she glanced over her shoulder, through the window, eyeing Olivia’s gently rising and falling ribcage, bathed in the warm glow of the room, midnight air biting at the ends of Georgina’s fingertips. _

_The penny dropped, “Oh.” _

_“I’m prepared to drop it,” Georgina added quickly. _

_“No, no,” Esmé hastened, “we can try it. If she wants to?” She allowed a brief silence to hang in the air, “I like her too.” _

_Georgina bit her lip, “You should take her out sometime, she’s really very endearing.” _

_A wide grin split Esmé’s face, “Remember that place I took you for our anniversary last year?” _

_Georgina leaned back against the window, looking up at the inky black sky, “Of course I remember," she laughed, “I couldn’t walk straight for three days.” _

_“I think I’ll take her there.” _

“She’d like to see you again.”

Olivia blushed, “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Olivia is a sweetheart and Georgina is gentle. Thank you for reading!!!! Lmk what you think!


	3. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esmé and Olivia spend some quality time together

Olivia hadn’t anticipated receiving a phone call from Esmé Squalor at ten past five on a Wednesday evening. Nevertheless, when she picked up the phone she was met with the deep, dripping tones of a British accent. 

“Hi Olivia, I’m glad I caught you,” Esmé purred. 

Olivia’s breath caught in her throat, “Hi Esmé.” 

She wanted to say she had been expecting a call, given what Georgina had told her the previous week, but she still didn’t quite buy the idea that Esmé liked her. 

“Are you busy on Friday night?” Esmé asked in a tone that convinced Olivia that saying no wasn’t really an option.

“Sure. What do you want to do?” she asked, heart fluttering in her ribcage.

Esmé grinned, “Just be ready at eight,” she ordered cryptically, “and wear something nice.” 

* * *

Olivia did as she was told and was ready to leave her small flat on the edge of the city at seven forty-five on Friday evening. 

She hovered in her living room, not wanting to seem overly eager, while simultaneously feeling an anxious tension hum through her body that she didn’t know what to do with. 

A text from Georgina appeared on her phone, which certainly didn’t do anything to dissipate her anxiety. She hadn’t even given Georgina her phone number. 

_ Have fun this evening, G _

She agonized for a few moments over whether to text back. Georgina had clearly spoken to Esmé about her plans for the night. It didn’t put Olivia at any kind of ease.

Olivia got up and walked through her house, she liked to think, with purpose, checking all her lights were off and the windows were closed. As she stretched out to grab the sill of her bedroom window, she glanced down at the cracked sidewalk below and caught a glimpse of fluffy blonde hair. She gasped slightly and quickly pulled herself inside, away from the view of the street. 

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to pretend her heart wasn’t racing. Her doorbell rang and she edged her way down the stairs. 

Opening the door to Esmé Squalor took her aback far more than even she had anticipated. 

Esmé stood before her, face split into a wide grin, teeth gleaming. She was dressed in a dark slate grey suit with fine white pinstripes. She had a frosted fur coat artfully draped across her shoulders. 

“Good evening, Olivia,” Esmé leaned against Olivia’s door frame, one hand in the pocket of her tailored cigarette pants, the other drawing the coat closer around her shoulders. 

“Hi Esmé,” Olivia said, feeling her mouth go dry.

“Are you ready?” 

Olivia nodded. 

* * *

Being ushered into a stretch limousine felt distinctly odd, as far as Olivia was concerned. She kept reminding herself intermittently that she was a librarian, and that, while this was lavishly fun, it was certainly out of the ordinary and should not be treated as the new norm. 

Olivia watched street lights flash past the tinted windows, not really sure if she was prepared to make eye contact with Esmé yet. 

She felt a tap on her arm and Esmé handed her a champagne flute filled, almost to the brim, with a pale ivory liquid,

“It’s alcohol free,” Esmé added gently. 

Olivia felt a jolt somewhere in her stomach. She didn’t know if Georgina had communicated her distaste for drinking, or if Esmé could just tell somehow, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Esmé tipped her glass and pressed it to Olivia’s with a small clink before taking a sip. Olivia watched her press her lips to the rim of the glass, leaving behind a smudge that was such a deep indigo that it looked almost black in the dim lighting of the car. Olivia tried to pretend she wasn’t thinking a myriad of perverted thoughts about Esmé’s slick lips. 

“Where are we going?” she tried.

Esmé grinned, eyes glittering, “That would be telling.” 

Olivia swallowed, throat contracting dryly. She sipped more of the drink Esmé had handed her, trying to smooth the coarseness that made her want to cough. 

The car continued for a few minutes, long enough to give Olivia time to finish her drink, and for Esmé’s hand to inch closer to hers, before pulling over. 

Esmé pulled herself out of the car and clicked her way behind it in order to insist on opening Olivia’s door for her, Olivia heard her hiss slightly at the driver,

“No, get out of my way this instant.”

Olivia smiled slightly, Esmé was sweet, even if that sometimes meant telling a driver, perhaps more firmly than strictly necessary, that she would get the door. 

Peering out of the door, past Esmé, Olivia caught sight of a towering building that was warmly lit throughout. Yellow lighting winked down at her from floors so high they gave her vertigo when she craned her neck to look up at them. The entryway was gold-plated and featured two doormen in bottle-green suits. Esmé flounced past them as she pulled Olivia inside. 

Olivia craned her neck and saw, to no surprise, that this was a department store.  _ Shopping _ , she should have known. Esmé gripped her hand and tilted her head, 

“Where would you like to go first, darling?” she asked, grinning. 

“Oh,” Olivia said, slightly surprised, “We aren’t here for you?” 

Esmé threw her head back and laughed, “Of course not!” she fixed her eyes on Olivia, giving her that same ravenous look, “This is all about you.” 

Upon edging further into the department store, Olivia felt her stomach drop, “It’s empty.” 

Esmé grinned, teeth flashing, “All about you, darling.” 

* * *

Upon quickly realising that Olivia really was like a tourist dropped in an unfamiliar city, Esmé directed her towards a nearby book store,

“Everything in here is an antique,” Esmé smiled, gently tracing a fingertip along Olivia’s shoulder blade. Olivia felt a tingle rip through her spine. 

Olivia couldn’t help but feel slightly excited at the prospect of being let loose in an antique book store. The carpet under her feet was a plush azure and the light of the shop was a buttery yellow. Olivia noticed a feeling of ease wash over her, even despite the blonde woman towering next to her. 

Esmé inched closer to her, leaning over to see which she had picked up. She stretched out a slender finger to run her fingertip over the embossed lettering on the cover, 

“Hans Christian Andersen?” she asked.

“My mom used to read it to me,” Olivia responded quietly. Olivia flipped the book over and frowned, “There’s no price on this. It must cost hundreds of dollars. At least.” 

Esmé scoffed, “Olivia, darling, none of this is going to cost you a penny.” 

Olivia faltered, “No, Esmé, this is too much.”

“Darling, I couldn’t spend all this money in my entire lifetime if I tried. Just enjoy,” she toyed with the ends of Olivia’s hair. Olivia closed her eyes and brought the book to her nose, dry paper smelling of storage and history enveloping her senses. 

Olivia poured through the book store losing track of time as she ran her fingers over leather covers and sepia pages. She found a particularly pretty illustrated edition of  _ The Velveteen Rabbit _ that she very quickly placed back on its shelf after carefully observing the peeling gold leaf. She didn’t see Esmé pick it up and discreetly hand it to the store assistant who was hovering just outside Olivia’s field of vision. 

An hour later, Olivia had relented and handed Esmé one book to keep; a battered copy of  _ The Tales of Peter Rabbit _ , with a list of its former owners scratched on the inside of the cover. 

Esmé nodded and took the book gently, aware that one of the covers was in danger of detaching, she handed it to the store assistant and nodded to Olivia,

“Everything will be delivered later.”

Olivia spent the next few hours, though it could have been days, she very rapidly lost track of time, being gently steered by Esmé into various shops full of expensive things Olivia had never even heard of,

“It’s got gold leaf in it darling,” Esmé said, brandishing a jar of moisturiser, “no, don’t argue you’re having one. It’ll change your life, trust me.” Esmé ran crook of her finger along the swell of Olivia’s cheekbone and grinned, “Not that you really need it, you have the skin of a twenty-one year old.” Olivia blushed, knowing Esmé was bending the truth slightly. Olivia felt her stomach flutter when Esmé leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. For all that Georgina had said about Esmé and her penchant for being rough, this kiss convinced Olivia that at least some of it was for show. 

Esmé stood up and sighed, “Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?” Olivia asked, slightly confused. 

“The last store on the list,” Esmé offered with a grin that made Olivia feel like she was about to be swallowed. 

Olivia felt like she should have guessed, but the last store on the list turned out to be lingerie. Blush pink walls towered around what felt like hundreds of gleaming gold rails of underwear.

Olivia wandered hesitantly around the store, skimming her fingers across satin and lace in varying shades of deep emerald and glittering red. 

Esmé leaned over her, pressing her lips so close they almost touched the shell of Olivia’s ear, “What catches your eye, darling?”

Olivia felt herself turn red, “Well, I- I don’t really know what suits me, I suppose,” she stuttered, tripping over her words slightly.

Esmé’s eyes glinted, “Oh I’m sure I can find you something.”

Esmé had shooed the store assistant away and closed the shop completely in order to prance around pulling lingerie she thought would suit Olivia off the shelves.

“You’re more of an autumn,” she decided, not waiting to hear Olivia’s opinion on the matter, “so oranges, reds, and golds.” Her eyes gleamed like a cat who had been presented with a quiet, slightly self-conscious, bowl of cream. 

Esmé dotted around the room pulling items down accompanied by the gentle rattle and squeak of clothing rails, “Excellent,” she murmured, “Georgie never lets me put her in anything that isn’t blue or green.” She rolled her eyes slightly. 

Olivia giggled slightly, “Can you blame her?”

Esmé smirked.

Olivia smiled, watching Esmé be sweet was something she hadn’t anticipated. It hadn’t quite occurred to her before that moment, but she had thought she wouldn’t be allowed to engage in Esmé and Georgina’s relationship beyond their initial engagement. It was nice that Esmé seemed to care about her, beyond the sexual aspect of whatever this was. 

Esmé turned to Olivia, eyes narrowed and head tilted, “Hmm, let me think,” she didn’t really address Olivia in particular. She mused aloud more than anything, wondering exactly which shade of russet would bring out Olivia’s eyes without washing out her delicate skin. 

She pulled a final silk robe, edged in soft flickering feathers, in a deep scarlet that Olivia wasn’t sure she could pull off without looking like something from some kind of strange fever dream. 

Esmé raised her eyebrows and pushed her thumb firmly into Olivia’s shoulder, she tilted her face close to the brunette’s, eyes glittering, “Are you ready to try them on?”

Olivia blushed and nodded. 

The dressing room of the lingerie shop was almost as big as the shop floor. Pink fluffy carpet and gold glinting walls swept gracefully before her. The centre of the room contained a plush couch, in the same blush pink, gold edges and metal fixings twinkling at her. Esmé took her hand and pulled her gently towards a tall door, painted in a matte eggshell white that felt soft against her fingers. Esmé carefully hung each set of lingerie across a free standing coat rail in the same true gold that accented the rest of the dressing room. 

She turned to Olivia and stroked her thumb along the edge of Olivia’s jaw, “Promise you’ll come out and show me?” she asked.

Olivia bit her lip and nodded. Watching Esmé exiting the cramped changing room Olivia suddenly realised precisely what she had agreed to. She screwed her fingers up and shook them loose, hoping to relieve her limbs of some of the nervous tension that had built up in them since she left her house earlier that evening. She looked at the things Esmé had pulled out for her and was mercifully grateful that Esmé had only pulled three sets, four if she included the robe. 

She fumbled nervous fingers over buttons she now felt were too small to get a decent grip on. Looking at her own lingerie, she now felt slightly underdressed. The set was a plain black satin, but did push her cleavage up higher than usual. She blushed slightly when she remembered exactly why she picked it out. She didn’t dare to hope that Esmé might take her back to 667 Dark Avenue late into the evening. 

She undid her bra, hands fumbling slightly as she pulled on a silk set in a pumpkin shade that featured mesh panels along her hips that revealed an edge of dark hair. 

Olivia breathed deeply and toyed with the idea of putting the robe over the top. She threw caution to the wind and exited the changing room. 

Esmé looked up from her nails, elongated limbs draped across the sofa, fur coat now tossed unceremoniously aside, “Gorgeous,” she purred, standing up from the couch. Olivia felt very self-conscious as she realised just how much taller Esmé seemed now that she was in spindly heels and Olivia was barefoot. She looked up at the blonde, edging towards her. Esmé placed a fingertip on Olivia’s collarbone, keeping her at arm’s length. She looked down at Olivia, like she was going to devour her, “Absolutely stunning, darling.” She raked her eyes along Olivia’s clavicle and conspicuously down to her rounded cleavage. She dragged her fingernail down, leaving a raised pink trail on Olivia’s skin, before hooking the tip of her nail into the edge of a piece of lace and tugging Olivia towards her. 

“You’re definitely getting this one,” she said, eyes glittering as she trailed her finger further down and brushed it against the mesh panel on Olivia’s right hip. Olivia fluttered her eyelids closed and felt her face flush with embarrassment at the wet heat developing between her thighs in underwear that she technically didn’t even own. Esmé pressed her lips briefly to Olivia’s cheek before taking a step back and thrusting her hands into the pockets of her cigarette pants, 

“Next one?” she asked, eyes gleaming. 

Olivia nodded. 

The next set was a vivid gold. The bra itself lacked an underwire which made Olivia feel apprehensive, but putting it on, Olivia felt a surge of trust for Esmé’s judgement. Her breasts sat low on her ribcage but it covered her more than the last one had. In this set, the bra wasn’t the issue. It was the underwear, it sat high on her hips, revealing inches of plump flesh she didn’t think she’d ever let anyone actively observe before. She dipped her head and exited the dressing room. 

Esmé was standing much closer to the door than she had anticipated, she ran her finger across the top of Olivia’s shoulder, pushing the strap of her bra down, eyebrows raised. 

Olivia bit her lip, “I’m gonna try the last one.” 

Olivia hadn’t noticed, but the last set of lingerie was a warm ivory colour. Not what she would have picked for herself if she had the option. This one was a thong. She felt her cheeks flame and decided to hurriedly put the robe over the top, so she could avoid thinking about just how much of her body was on show. 

Esmé looked down at her, grinning, “I’d like you to come to a hotel with me.”

Olivia blushed, “I’d like that.”

* * *

The hotel was gorgeous, not that Olivia had necessarily expected anything less, but she was beginning to suspect that she had wildly underestimated precisely how much money Esmé Squalor had. 

She was ushered into an elevator after Esmé waved away the doorman. The elevator took her up to the highest floor in the building, again, not that Olivia had expected anything different from the city’s sixth most important financial advisor. 

Olivia guessed that the hotel room probably took up the better part of the entire top floor of the building. A grand entrance with marble flooring and sweeping mirrors opened in front of her. Plush suede sofas were dotted around the room, all coated in soft fluffy throws. 

“Would you like a drink?” Esmé offered, gesturing to a bar across the room. A tall cabinet boasted every kind of alcohol she could think of. 

Olivia nodded, “Something fizzy would be nice.”

Esmé pulled a bottle of champagne and poured a scant amount into two glasses before passing one to Olivia. She gripped Olivia’s jaw softly in her hand before pressing her lips to the shorter woman’s, tasting sweetness and alcohol. She smiled, feeling Olivia sigh slightly, she opened her mouth and tangled her free hand into the hair at the nape of Olivia’s neck. 

She pulled her face away to flick her eyes at Olivia. Olivia nodded. 

Olivia allowed Esmé to rake spindly fingers across her flesh and down to the buttons of her blouse. Olivia felt her breath hitch as Esmé undid each button tantalizingly slowly. She heard herself whine quietly in the back of her throat as her eyes drifted closed, skin tingling at the soft contact. Esmé grinned, watching Olivia’s eyelids flutter. Esmé peeled Olivia’s blouse apart, examining Olivia’s torso. She dragged the tip of her nail down Olivia’s sternum and over her abdomen, before wrapping her fingers around Olivia’s hip and pulling their bodies flush together, delighting at the yielding softness of Olivia’s flesh. She grinned down at the shorter woman before gently but firmly pushing her backwards onto the conveniently, and deliberately, placed bergère chair before sinking to her knees. 

Olivia whimpered as she realised precisely how this encounter was about to progress, she mumbled a, “Yes, please.” Before tipping her head back and screwing her eyes shut. 

She felt Esmé’s hands push her skirt up around her hips and pull her underwear down her legs. Olivia lifted one of her legs over the arm of the chair and gasped when she felt Esmé Squalor’s tongue lap at her thigh. She balled her hands into fists, her fingers itching to grasp curled tendrils of blonde hair. She felt Esmé’s breath heat her skin and moaned, feeling somewhere on the frustrated side of impatient. 

Esmé pressed a kiss to her thigh, mere inches away from where she really needed contact, “Ask,” Esmé said, voice low and rough. 

Olivia blushed, “Please.”

Esmé leaned her forearms across Olivia’s thighs, Olivia rolled her head forward and chanced a brief glance at the other woman. 

Esmé grinned wickedly, “What do you want?”

Olivia felt her core clench, sensing that this particular line of inquiry was more about strong arming her into saying precisely what she wanted in a way that would make Esmé feel like she owned something of her. 

She held Esmé’s gaze, ignoring the flush creeping up her neck, “I want your tongue in me.”

Esmé maintained eye contact, while she dipped her head and dragged her tongue across Olivia’s clit. Olivia gasped and relented, tilting her head back against the high back of the chair. Esmé fluttered her tongue across Olivia’s centre, relishing in the way Olivia moaned and hissed slightly. Esmé thrust her tongue deeper into the brunette and Olivia felt all semblance of rationality escape her. 

She whined and tangled her hands into Esmé’s hair.

Esmé pulled away, catching ragged breaths, chin dripping, “Talk to me, baby.” 

Olivia felt her ribs constrict as Esmé plunged her tongue back into her soaked centre, “God that feels good.” 

Esmé hummed and pressed the flat of her tongue against Olivia. Drawing out her strokes until they were teasingly slow. 

Olivia groaned, somewhere between desperation and frustration, “Please, Esmé.” 

She felt more than heard Esmé laugh slightly. She tightened her grip on fluffy blonde curls and felt her hips buck when Esmé pressed the tip of her tongue hard against her clit. 

She whimpered somewhere in the back of her throat, grinding her hips more purposefully, “God, how am I already so close?” The question wasn’t really directed at anyone, but she didn’t quite know how the electric tingle of being rapidly dragged to the precipice of orgasm had happened so fast. 

Esmé returned her tongue to Olivia’s entrance delighting in the way Olivia clenched around her tongue. She moaned despite herself and replaced her tongue with her fingers before flicking the tip of her tongue across Olivia’s clit and watching as her back arched, and she emitted a low whimper. 

“Fuck me, Esmé,” it came out as more of a breathy whine as she tipped over into orgasm.

Olivia clenched her fingers into Esmé’s hair before flopping, breathless, back onto the velvety softness of the chair beneath her.

Esmé sat up, grinning before wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Olivia dreaded to think about how many thousands of dollars’ worth of designer clothing her come had just ruined. 

Esmé stood before straddling Olivia’s lap and kissing her. Olivia tasting her own come mixed with something heady and deep that she suspected Esmé just naturally emanated. 

Esmé raised her eyebrows and trailed her fingers down to Olivia’s core. She brushed across dark hair before running a finger across dripping wetness. Olivia felt her breath hitch but desperately wanted Esmé to continue. She hadn’t ever considered herself as an insatiable person before, but she couldn’t help but flick through her memory to desperately wanting Georgina to fuck her a second time. 

Something in the residual fluttering of the orgasm emboldened her, “Fuck me, Esmé.” 

A devilish look flashed across Esmé’s face, “Again?”

“Again.”

Esmé was far less patient than Georgina in removing Olivia’s clothing. Olivia was pulled sharply from the chair before Esmé dragged her tongue across the brunette’s teeth and tugged her clothing off with no regard to how it might get stretched out of shape or damage zippers. Olivia fumbled with the buttons of Esmé’s crisp white shirt and allowed her clothes to be pulled unceremoniously to the floor. 

The bedroom was just as grand as the hotel suite itself. A bed stood stately in the centre of the room, sheets crisp and white, covered in piles of soft slate grey cushions. Esmé pulled Olivia onto the bed before clambering across her.

Esmé smirked, hovering her body above Olivia’s tantalisingly close, allowing her pink nipples to brush across Olivia’s chest and delighting in the way it made her sigh. 

“How do you want it?” Esmé asked, delighting in teasing the admission out of Olivia. 

Olivia moaned when Esmé pressed her lips against her neck, “I haven’t stopped thinking about that strap on.” She gasped when Esmé sunk her teeth into her neck. 

Olivia spent an impatient thirty seconds propped up on her elbow watching Esmé pull a strap from a cabinet next to the bed.

She tilted her head towards Olivia, “The same as last time?”

Olivia swallowed her pride and asked, “Do you have anything bigger?”

Esmé grinned, “Of course,” she pulled a toy and lube from the cabinet, handing the bottle to Olivia before negotiating the strap around her hips. 

She resumed her position above Olivia and flashed her teeth ravenously at the brunette, “Ready?”

“God, yes.”

Olivia gasped, feeling Esmé thrust inside her. Esmé gripped Olivia’s thigh in one hand and tangled the other into her hair. 

Olivia arched her back and moaned, “Harder.” 

Esmé tightened her grip, fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath them hard enough to bruise, and she pressed her mouth against the other woman’s and thrust her hips harder into her. Olivia gasped and tilted her hips as far as she could, straining into the pressure as much as her spine would allow. She tangled one hand in the fluff of Esmé’s hair and scraped the other across Esmé’s back, digging her nails in as hard as she dared. 

Esmé broke the kiss momentarily to challenge, “You can scratch me harder than that, darling.” 

Olivia dug her nails into pale skin, clinging desperately to anything that might pin her to this moment. To this feeling. 

She moaned, “Esmé please, I need more.” 

Esmé took the hint and slid a hand down Olivia’s ribcage, pausing momentarily to trail her fingers agonizingly across Olivia’s hip and down to her core. She brushed the tip of her thumb across Olivia’s clit while capturing her lips in a deep kiss. Olivia felt her hips buck as warmth spread through her limbs out to her fingertips. She whined and pressed her body into Esmé’s, desperate for as much contact as the blonde could give her. Esmé smiled into the kiss and obliged, pressing her ribs into Olivia’s breasts, slipping a hand under her back and driving talons into her skin. Olivia gasped but held herself close to Esmé, giving her permission to continue. Olivia felt the toy hit inside her, aided by the change in angle and lost track of herself,

“Oh  _ fuck _ , Esmé. God that feels good, more,  _ more _ ,” Esmé obliged, tilting her hips and moving faster. Olivia screwed her eyes shut and bit her lip, desperately trying to prevent an embarrassing string of curses and admissions falling from her lips. Esmé added pressure to Olivia’s clit, circling Olivia’s flesh and watching her tip her head back. Olivia couldn’t think beyond,

“Fuck.”

Esmé felt Olivia’s breath halt as she convulsed beneath her. 

Olivia collapsed onto the bed below her, feeling a flush creep over her. Esmé disentangled herself from Olivia and flopped onto the bed beside her. 

Esmé giggled slightly, “Georgina was right, you really are very endearing.” 

Olivia felt her stomach clench, “She really said that?” the words were out of her mouth before she could prevent herself from saying them.

Esmé turned to face Olivia and draped an arm across her ribs, “She likes you a lot.” 

Olivia fluttered her eyes closed, avoiding Esmé’s piercing gaze, “I like you too. Both of you.” 

Esmé grinned, “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry this one took a bit longer to get up, chapter 4 and 5 will be here but they'll be a while I reckon. Watch this space.
> 
> Happy Hanukkah/Christmas/holidays generally (also Kwanzaa for tomorrow), happy Wednesday if you don't celebrate anything!


	4. That Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia meets up with Jacquelyn and reflects on her evening with Esmé. Esmé and Georgina invite Olivia to their weekly girls' night in.

Esmé was flat on her back, fluffy hair clouding her face, one arm above her head, the other draped awkwardly across Olivia’s rib cage. Olivia allowed herself to observe the other woman momentarily. If she was completely honest, Esmé frightened her slightly. There was something about the unrelentingly devilish look in obsidian eyes that Olivia had never quite managed to pitch an appropriate reaction to. She mostly settled for looking intently at the floor, fixing her gaze on whatever ridiculously opulent outfit Esmé was wearing, or, if all else failed, screwing her eyes shut while Esmé scraped her teeth against her neck. She blushed slightly, noting that her core remained over sensitised, even hours after the events of last night.

Esmé had very kindly insisted on making her tea in the late hours of the night, after the fact, while Olivia brushed her teeth and scraped her hair back in a bathroom that she thought might actually be bigger than her entire house. Tiles edged in gold winked down at her while she tried to keep calm about the prospect of sleeping next to someone who, on most days, scared the living daylights out of her.

Sliding under pristine Egyptian cotton sheets and feeling Esmé bury her face between her shoulder blades, Olivia thought her fear had been quelled somewhat. 

Olivia pulled herself out of bed, despite wishing she could stay enveloped in liquid warmth for the rest of the day. Perhaps even the rest of her life. 

She pulled on a robe that someone had hung loosely from the corner of the bedroom door and started to make herself tea. She pulled a delicate organza bag from a sleek black cabinet that contained flowering jasmine tea and placed it into an ornate glass teapot. She had just set the kettle to boil when she heard a loud buzz from behind her. She frowned and strode across a rug with elegant twisting patterns in deep reds and greens that contained just enough bare threads that she thought it might be an antique. The buzz grew louder, now clearly emanating from inside her sensible black handbag. She pawed through the contents of the bag before fishing out her phone and swiping her finger across the cold glass to pick it up,

“Hi, Jac.”

“Olivia! I’m glad I caught you, are you free tonight?” Jacquelyn fired off at a rate so rapid it took Olivia a few clear seconds to process what she had said. 

“Yes, yes,” she pulled the phone away from her ear for a second and checked the time, “I have to be at work in half an hour but I’m free at seven?”

“Great, yes,” Olivia heard Jacquelyn mutter something at someone, her hand covering the speaker, “I’ll see you at that place on twenty-eighth at seven thirty.” 

“See you soon.” Olivia sighed, feeling a slight anxious buzz in the pit of her abdomen. She liked to over analyse, and Jacquelyn usually acted as a useful buffer, preventing her from dissolving into a puddle of catastrophizing. She was indebted to her for that. 

She threw her phone back in her bag and tipped her tea into her travel mug before hastily pulling her clothes on and dashing out of the door. She told herself it was because she was late.

* * *

Olivia stood outside their favourite coffee-and-cake spot, wriggling her legs, using the sensation of her tights brushing against one another in order to ground herself. 

Jacquelyn skated round the corner, backpack hanging awry off one shoulder, tawny leather jacket bunched around her waist. She very quickly wrapped Olivia in a hasty one armed hug before steering her into the balmy air of the coffee shop. 

Olivia slumped herself against the wall of their favourite table, hidden behind a post. Most other patrons avoided it, partially because it was hidden behind a pillar which, on a nice day meant you were shielded from the glorious beaming sunlight, and because the table had a deep black scorch mark on its surface. Olivia liked to sit here, slightly around a corner, meaning that other customers were far less likely to overhear them, and also because the blistered tabletop offered a focal point for her to pick at during conversation. It prevented her from looking at her phone or pulling large strands of skin from her cuticles.

Jacquelyn bobbed over to the counter to order coffee. She knew what Olivia liked. Strangely enough, she also always seemed to know what Olivia wanted. Her order varied wildly between iced coffee, sweet vanilla lattes with extra sugar and syrupy hot chocolates, topped with piles of marshmallows and chocolate stirrers. Today, Jacquelyn brought back an iced mocha and a handful of sugar packets,

“It’s decaf,” she said as she placed it in front of Olivia. 

Olivia smiled, “Thank you.” 

They sipped in silence for a few moments. Olivia greatly appreciated Jacquelyn’s ability to sit with her in moments of quiet pensivity. It gave her time to think about exactly what she needed to say. She took a breath and tried to start talking, thinking that she had hammered out the bends and dents in precisely what she needed to discuss but the words died in her mouth.

Jacquelyn tilted her head and took a breath, “So you saw Esmé last night?” 

Olivia bit her lip slightly and nodded, “It was nice. But also very strange.” 

“What happened?” Jacquelyn asked before tipping an obscene amount of scalding black coffee into her mouth. 

Olivia recounted her previous evening, from sitting in her house, consumed by nervous tension, through to waking up across from a blonde financial advisor that, mere weeks ago, intimidated her in every possible sense of the word. She still did, if she was completely honest. She skimmed across the parts that made her blush, knowing that Jacquelyn could pick up the hints she was carefully constructing without her having to supply an obscene amount of detail in a public coffee shop.

Jaquelyn sat for a moment, finishing the dregs of her coffee, swirling drips of black liquid across the smooth ivory surface at the bottom of her cup. 

She hummed, “The gifts are lavish, even for Esmé, I’ll give you that.” Olivia blushed slightly, she wasn’t yet sure how the things Esmé had bought for her would be delivered. She dreaded to think just how many expensive parcels would litter her house. 

Jacquelyn continued, “But that is also just how Esmé flirts,” she raised her eyebrows somewhat non-committally, “Did I ever tell you about that time she took Georgina on holiday to Fiji?” Olivia shook her head. “Well, technically it wasn’t Fiji, it was a small Island Esmé had purchased  _ for  _ Georgina, just south of Fiji. She still owns it, legally.” 

Olivia let her mouth drop open slightly, “But that must have cost thousands.”

“Millions.” 

Olivia blanched slightly, “Oh.” She paused slightly, “So this is just what she does?” 

Jacquelyn nodded, “It is.” 

Olivia took a shaky breath, “There’s something else that’s bugging me.”

Jaquelyn stretched out and gripped Olivia’s forearm, firmly enough to be reassuring but not enough to blanch her skin in small white circles. Olivia closed her eyes and focused on the pressure of Jacquelyn’s fingertips,

“It’s embarrassing but stick with me,” Olivia would never expect Jacquelyn to say anything out of sorts, but she felt like prefacing what she was about to say would calm her nerves slightly. She wasn’t convinced, but she said it anyway, “I didn’t do any giving.”

Jacquelyn frowned, “What like gifts? That’s really not Esmé’s style I wouldn’t-” A flicker of understanding crossed Jacquelyn’s face, “ _ Oh _ .” Olivia winced slightly and busied herself pulling out a particularly large piece of charred wood, stiff soot coating her fingertips. She usually left the bigger splinters untouched but the nervous energy in her fingers refused to dissipate, and she didn’t particularly want to meet Jacquelyn’s gaze.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Olivia nodded, feeling wood fracture beneath her nail. “And did she enjoy herself?” 

Olivia shrugged slightly, “I mean, I think so? It certainly seemed like it at the time but I didn’t get the chance to talk to her this morning.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.” She leaned her head down awkwardly to catch Olivia’s gaze, “Trust me.”

* * *

Esmé bundled herself through sheets of rain into Georgina’s front door. Georgina pulled Esmé’s thick plastic coat off, apparently faux leather was  _ in _ . Georgina couldn’t quite get behind it, but she hung it on the coat rack to drip onto her wood floors nonetheless. Esmé promptly flopped herself onto the slate grey sofa and looked at Georgina expectantly,

“A drink, darling?” 

Georgina smirked, “Are you offering or asking?” 

Esmé made a noise of frustrated ire in the back of her throat, “I’ve had a horribly stressful day, Georgie,” she pouted. 

Georgina rolled her eyes but filled the coffee machine and flicked it on. She presented the blonde with a deep cup of steaming liquid a few minutes later, dark hue concealed by a thick layer of fluff, and invited her up the stairs into the smaller living room. 

Esmé never wanted to admit that she liked small houses. The sprawling lay of her penthouse apartment has its advantages, of course. Largely that it was good for entertaining and hiding oneself from a husband one wasn’t keen on, not that it particularly mattered any more; she had taken the apartment in the divorce. Jerome had moved in a few blocks away. She still saw him around town occasionally, he’d found a nice man now and, although Esmé didn’t conceive herself as the forgiving type, she was glad he wasn’t angry at her, at the very least. However, there was something somewhat magical about Georgina’s second living room. She had painted the walls a deep coffee colour, a roaring fire was always lit in the grate, and piles of soft cream coloured blankets tossed artfully onto the suede sofas. Esmé tapped her coffee cup onto a standing bookshelf and immediately swathed herself in a blanket. Georgina placed her cup gently on a side table next to the arm of the couch and leant back against Esmé’s shoulder. 

“How was Olivia yesterday?” Georgina rarely skirted what she wanted to say.

Esmé smiled, “She was sweet. She left before I woke up though.”

Georgina nodded, “I imagine she may have had to work.” She didn’t like to patronise Esmé, but sometimes it was necessary to advocate for the simplest explanation. It kept her calmer. 

Esmé gazed into the dancing orange firelight, allowing the warmth from the flames to radiate over her skin, equalizing her temperature from the frigid rain, 

“So how are we doing this?” She asked, not wanting to extend the conversation beyond what was necessary. She much preferred to spend her time with Georgina in balmy silence. Or uncomfortable silence. Whatever the activity necessitated. 

“I feel as though perhaps we should get to know her slightly better,” Georgina offered.

Esmé giggled, “How much better can we really know her?”

Georgina gently smacked Esmé’s arm behind her, “Get your brain out of the gutter you harlot.”

“Make me.”

* * *

Olivia hurried through her front door, collar upturned against the driving rain. Not that it made much of a difference, with every step more droplets of frigid water trickled down her spine, chilling her to the bone. She slammed the door behind her, jamming the alarm code onto rubberized keys which seemed to blur together under her numb fingers. Hearing the beeping finally cease, Olivia shed her soaked coat, throwing it across a spindly coat rack which threatened to fall over every time she so much as looked at it, and turned to put her kettle on to boil. 

She groaned when she heard a knock at the door. She swung it open, brow furrowed, expecting her nosy neighbour, 

“Can I help?” she sniped. 

A man in a dark, well fitted wool coat stood under a large black umbrella. She frowned.

“Olivia Caliban?” 

She didn’t quite want to nod, but she found herself moving her head before she could think not to.

The man nodded and moved aside to reveal several people, all clothed in the same bottle-green jackets as the door staff of the department store, and all buried under piles of crisp white boxes. 

Olivia’s mouth gaped, and she had moved aside before she could manage to stutter anything about where to put things. 

The staff piled the boxes high on her cheap kitchen table, thin wooden surface beginning to look like it might bend and snap under the weight. The man in the wool coat ushered the employees out before turning to Olivia and shaking her hand, 

“Nice to meet you, M’am. I’m David, I imagine we’ll meet again. Have a good evening, Ms Caliban.” He turned on a polished black heel and darted through the door before Olivia had a chance to ask anything. 

The kettle pinged, and she exhaled heavily, deciding to, at the very least, make herself tea before embarking on what seemed like a monumental task in opening every single one of Esmé’s carefully ribboned, white gloss boxes. 

She very quickly realised, the taste of green tea in the back of her throat, wild strands of dark hair brushing the tops of her ears, that Esmé had gone somewhat off book during their trip to the department store. Every single faded tome she had so much as glanced at was wrapped in tissue and placed in a large white parcel.  _ The Velveteen Rabbit  _ peaked out from a shroud of white paper. She brushed her index finger across the surface, feeling the paper crunch satisfyingly against her fingers as she pulled the book from its box. She flipped through the pages, the same soft dusty smell rising from its pages that she remembered from the book store. It was strange, but she wished Esmé was here. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to scold her, or thank her. Probably some warped combination of the two. 

It took her a good half hour of pulling things from boxes before she finally reached the end of the parcels. Some of the things she recognised, she blushed profusely when she found the parcel from the lingerie store, other things Esmé seemed to have guessed perfectly. A brand new heavy black coat rested in one of the boxes. She eyed her own tan coat suspiciously, it hung, slightly drably, from her coat rack. She raised an eyebrow, she wasn’t sure whether to be slightly offended that Esmé had decided her coat was no longer smart enough, but she remembered the slight frayed hole in the bottom of the left pocket that she kept meaning to fix every time she lost a lipstick or a nickel, and decided that she would accept the coats as long as they came.

* * *

Georgina called Olivia.

She decided that she liked talking to Olivia. Particularly on the phone. She could hear the melodic tones and lengthy pauses in Olivia’s timbre. Olivia stuttered and hesitate and waited for Georgina to ask her questions before knowing she was allowed to talk and responding. 

“Hi, Olivia. It’s Georgina,” Georgina started. “How are you?” 

Olivia nodded and then remembered Georgina couldn’t see her, “I’m good, yes, thank you.” She paused for a moment before remembering, “How are you?” 

Georgina laughed softly, “I’m well, thank you.” She paused for a moment, allowing Olivia the opportunity to fill the silence. Olivia declined so Georgina continued, “Esmé and I wondered if you might like to come over tonight?” 

Olivia hesitated and blushed slightly, “Yeah sure, I can move some things around.”

Georgina smiled, “We’d like to see you in a non-sexual context, if that suits you.” 

“Oh,” Olivia started, somewhat confused.

“It’s okay if you’re not interested-”

“No, I am, I’m interested I just,” she stuttered slightly, “wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted.” 

Georgina smiled, “We’d both like that.”

Olivia blushed, “Am I on speaker?”

Georgina laughed, “Not technically but Esmé is jamming her head next to the phone.” Olivia snorted. She heard Esmé scoff. “We can talk about it more when we meet, if you like?”

Olivia’s heart fluttered, “That sounds nice.” 

“See you soon, darling,” Esmé drawled, sounding slightly tinny, clearly edging her mouth as close to the speaker as it could get around Georgina’s jaw. Olivia heard the line go dead. She took a shaky breath. The words ‘non-sexual context’ buzzing around her brain.  _ That has to be good? Right? _

* * *

Olivia had been invited to 667 Dark Avenue, Esmé had clearly briefed the doorman, Olivia noted, as he stepped aside and gestured her into the building with a sweeping arm and a charismatic smile. 

She flitted across the foyer, this week decorated with hundreds of plastic glow-in-the-dark stars, heels clinking on the tile before she jammed her fingertip into the elevator button. She jammed her hands in the pockets of her trench coat. It had pained her, but she couldn’t commit to wearing the new coat. Not when curiosity had got the better of her, and she had googled precisely how much it cost. 

She heard a rapping behind her and mumbled apology as Georgina skirted around the doorman and across the foyer to Olivia. She laid a gentle hand between Olivia’s shoulder blades, 

“Hi,” she breathed. 

“Hi,” Olivia smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

The doors dinged behind her, and she watched Georgina step forward, Olivia instinctively stepped backward into the elevator. She didn’t quite know how Georgina managed it. One moment, she was dashing across a foyer, breathless and flustered, the next she was approaching Olivia like she wanted to drag her tongue across places that would make Olivia’s eyes roll back in her skull. 

The doors swept closed and Georgina raised her eyebrows, “Can I kiss you?” 

Olivia bit her lip and nodded. 

Georgina tipped Olivia’s head towards her and watched as Olivia fluttered her eyelids closed. She didn’t think she would ever tire of watching Olivia, eyes closed expectantly, waiting to be kissed. She pressed her lips to Olivia’s, keeping the kiss light and soft, teasing, challenging Olivia to kiss her harder. She mentally kept track of how long the elevator ride took. By her guess, they were probably a third of the way up.  _ Plenty of time _ . Olivia sighed and parted her lips, edging her tongue towards the edge of Georgina’s lip. Georgina tangled her hands into Olivia’s hair, fingers curled into dark locks, and reciprocated, dragging her tongue across Olivia’s teeth, revelling in the moan that reverberated from the other woman’s throat through her skull.  _ Halfway. At this rate she’ll have her skirt hiked up around her waist before we even reach the apartment _ . 

Olivia broke the kiss, panting, “I thought this was supposed to be non-sexual?” she asked, a sly grin spreading across her face. 

Georgina smiled, it was nice to see Olivia bite back slightly, even if it was only gently. She raised an eyebrow, she placed a hand either side of Olivia on the rail, effectively pinning her to the wall. Olivia wrapped her arms around Georgina’s waist and pulled her closer. 

Olivia tilted her head up and pushed her knee forward, Georgina obliged and parted her thighs, allowing Olivia to press her thigh into her core. 

Georgina brought her lips close to Olivia’s, so close she could have flicked out her tongue and tasted her, “I thought this was supposed to be non-sexual,” she said, irony dripping from her voice. 

Olivia bit her lip and allowed her hands to drift lower on Georgina’s body, “What kind of accusation are you making, Dr. Orwell?” she whispered.

Georgina smiled, “That an interesting question, Ms. Caliban, but I do believe your thigh is currently,” she leaned her lips close to Olivia’s ear, “pressed against my cunt.” 

Olivia blushed furiously, grateful that Georgina couldn’t see her, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, “Do you want me to stop?” 

Georgina, in lieu of a verbal response, pressed her hips into Olivia’s, feeling the soft give of Olivia’s flesh and hearing her moan in the back of her throat. 

Georgina felt the gravity change around them as the elevator slowed to a stop before the doors slid open behind them. Olivia had to refrain from whimpering slightly as Georgina pushed herself off her, with nothing but a chaste kiss to show for it. Georgina slid her hand down Olivia’s arm and threaded her fingers through the shorter woman’s, pulling her out of the elevator and towards 667 Dark Avenue’s penthouse. 

Georgina didn’t knock at the penthouse’s wide door; she produced a key from somewhere within her coat and pushed it into the lock. 

“Esmé?” she called, pulling Olivia through to a nearby sitting room. Georgina wasn’t particularly fond of the sitting room that was closest to the penthouse’s entrance. It was all very white and pristine. She didn’t always feel like she could sit down for fear of marring the white suede sofa. 

Esmé strode round a corner, wearing a pristine white pant suit that was fitted extraordinarily closely to her body, revealing a swathe of clavicle and décolletage, and shiny black patent leather stilettos. She wrapped her arms around Georgina’s shoulders, a wide grin splitting her face, before she pressed her lips to the other woman’s. She pulled Georgina’s waist flush with her own,

“I missed you,” she whispered somewhere into Georgina’s jawline. She disentangled herself from the optometrist before striding the rest of the way up her pristine hallway towards Olivia,

“Hello, darling,” she said, grasping Olivia’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

Olivia smiled and leaned into the contact, “Hi, Esmé.”

Esmé whirled round and dragged Georgina through into the living room by the sleeve of her satin lab coat, “I see you two already got friendly in the lift.” 

Georgina snorted and Olivia whipped her head around ‘How does she know?’ she mouthed behind Esmé’s head. 

As if she had heard her, Esmé scoffed, head inclined towards Olivia, “Please darling, you’re bright red.” 

Olivia dipped her head towards the floor, feeling slightly self-conscious, as Esmé dragged her towards the sitting room. She was firmly directed towards the corner of a soft sofa which Olivia thought would probably seat fifteen people, at a push. She sat, stiffly, hands curled in her lap, feeling like she couldn’t quite relax in a living room that was the colour of the first fall of snow in late November. 

“I’m getting drinks,” Esmé said, not stopping to actually ask what either of the other woman wanted to drink before she strutted out of the room with the wave of a wrist and a conspicuous wink. 

Georgina giggled, “She’s too perceptive for her own good sometimes,” she kicked off her shoes, calves sighing at the reduction in pressure when she lost four inches of height, and collapsed back onto the sofa, “Please do get comfortable,” she pointed out, throwing her coat indelicately across the seat next to Olivia, “I know it’s an intimidating room, but she really can afford to get the couch cleaned if she has to.” Olivia remembered Jacquelyn’s eyes, wide and serious as she told her just how much Esmé had spent on one extravagant birthday for Kit one year and obliged, placing her coat gently next to Georgina’s, noting that Georgina chose to remain a respectable distance away from her. She used her toe to scrape at the heel of her shoes in order to remove her flats, stacking them neatly beside one another, contrary to the scattered pile of Georgina’s heels. Olivia tipped her shoulders back against the couch, allowing herself to sink a few inches into the pillowy cushion behind her. 

She sighed, “At least it’s comfortable.”

Georgina smirked, “You can say that again.”

Olivia felt a jab of nerves in her stomach, “What type of drinks will Esmé get?”

Georgina hummed slightly, “Usually she’ll bring back some of whatever’s  _ in _ , so it can be a bit hit-or-miss.” 

“What’s  _ in _ at the moment?” Olivia asked, feeling slightly apprehensive. 

Georgina exhaled amusedly, “Your guess is as good as mine.” 

“My ears are burning,” Esmé waltzed back into the room clutching a small round silver in her long fingers, “This week, we have a delicious peach lavender iced tea.” She plucked a glass from the tray and handed it to Georgina, who accepted it with a grateful sip of the saccharin liquid. 

“Very drinkable today, my love,” Georgina teased. 

“Hush, Georgie, or I shan’t serve you any more drinks at all,” Esmé said, handing a second glass to Olivia.

Esmé placed the silver tray, slightly less than carefully, onto the sculpted coffee table in front of her before worming her way between the two women, turning a respectable gap into a considerable squish. 

“Movie?” Georgina suggested, twirling a stiff metal straw in neatly manicured fingers.

“Sounds good,” Olivia agreed.

“Great,” Esmé said, producing a set of remotes from somewhere behind the sofa. She clicked a button on a small, slim remote and Olivia jerked her head up as a wide canvas screen began to descend from the ceiling about ten feet in front of them. 

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Esmé asked, with a wide grin and a tone that, on anyone else in the world, Olivia would have detested. 

The second remote Esmé fiddled with was long and a deep, high gloss, black. It seemed to have hundreds of buttons and Olivia wasn’t sure she could make head or tail of any of them. 

“What do we fancy?” Esmé asked, “science fiction is  _ in _ .”

“I like Sci-Fi,” Olivia answered, slightly endeared by the use of the elongated term. 

Esmé flicked through a few screens, and vetoed a few options on the basis that certain directors or actors were  _ out _ , before the three of them found something that was mutually amicable and Esmé said,

“Lights, twenty percent,” and the room dimmed itself to a pleasant flaxen glow. Olivia didn’t know why it surprised her that Esmé’s lights were voice activated, but the logical assertion that everything in Esmé’s house was probably wired up to some kind of smart system didn’t prevent her from flicking her head around slightly as the light began to fade. 

Olivia sat, still feeling slightly displaced on a sofa that she was willing to bet cost more than every single piece of furniture in her home combined, but the iced tea went down well. The lavender had been restricted to a gentle sweet overtone, rather than a perfumed assault which, when combined with the stiff tea and the mellow, rounded peach, worked quite well. They had chosen a film about an international space station, in the end. It wasn’t particularly comforting, and centred largely around the horrors of humanity and the isolation of space, but somehow, nestled into the corner of a deep sofa, it didn’t seem so bleak. 

She sucked at her straw until the glass began to make the sharp sound of air being pulled between ice cubes, at which point she edged over gently and placed the glass on the table next to Esmé’s. Her stomach clenched slightly when she realised that Esmé had seen an opportunity in Olivia leaning forward and had used it to sweep her arm across the back of the couch, so that when Olivia sat back, she found herself curled into the crook of the blonde’s elbow. She tried to remain sitting up but the dim lighting in the warm room made her eyelids heavy and within minutes she found herself leaning her cheekbone on Esmé’s shoulder. She felt a hand sneak to her waist and drift in tight circles across the small of her back. She guessed by the way Georgina was leaning, slightly awkwardly across Esmé that the hand was hers. Olivia sighed gently and gave in to the heavy feeling behind her eyelids, allowing them to drop closed. She shifted her arm to Esmé’s waist, allowing her fingers to curl gently into the pocket of Esmé’s suit. 

The next time she opened her eyes, the credits were rolling. She subtly eyed her watch and noted that it was still relatively early. Esmé rubbed her hand up and down Olivia’s upper arm in a soothing pattern. Georgina leant across Esmé’s lap and caught Olivia’s eye,

“Do you want to go to bed, sweetheart?” 

“No, it’s okay, we can watch something else,” Olivia smiled. 

Esmé leant back slightly, allowing the other women to see each other more efficiently, 

“We should put pyjamas on though,” she said, skating her fingers across Georgina’s thigh, “I have a lovely satin set that would look wonderful on you, Olivia.”

Olivia blushed but nodded.

* * *

Olivia hadn’t anticipated that she would ever in her lifespan be permitted to see the inside of one of Esmé Squalor’s dressing rooms. She marvelled at the ceiling which featured hundreds of strands of glimmering gold shards hanging delicately above her head. The walls were painted a warm ivory and the carpets were a warm coral, deep and plush beneath her feet. Georgina wrapped an arm around Olivia’s shoulders and pulled her close to her chest while Esmé stalked off in the direction of a tall armoire with gilded edges. Olivia looked up into Georgina’s steely grey eyes. Georgina smiled affectionately, 

“How are you?” she asked, tucking a stray strand of Olivia’s hair behind her ear. 

“I’m good,” Olivia smiled, “Did you enjoy the movie?” 

Georgina tilted her head slightly, “Not quite to my taste, I’ll admit, but with the right company anything is enjoyable.” Her eyes twinkled suggestively. 

Esmé raised her voice across the dressing room, “Come and get changed, darlings.”

Georgina pressed a soft kiss to Olivia’s lips before disentangling herself from the other woman’s waist and sliding through the folding doors towards Esmé. Olivia took a moment to calm her fluttering heart rate before following. 

Edging around the corner, her heart rate immediately spiked for a second time in as many minutes. Esmé was confidently striding around the room clad only in a set of skimpy black lace lingerie and her tall patent leather stilettos. Georgina, beyond obviously raking her eyes across Esmé’s naked torso, seemed to be completely unfazed by the sudden appearance of Esmé in a thong that almost covered less of her than her artfully placed hands might have. 

Esmé held two sets of silk pyjamas aloft, clearly trying to decide between the two. She held a deep sapphire set against Georgina’s clavicle, 

“Georgie this one is for you,” she crinkled her nose and gave the other woman a wide grin. 

“Thank you, Esmé” Georgina responded, accompanied by a small kiss, before striding behind a tall folding screen that featured an ornate tapestry. Georgina was clearly used to the extravagant gifts in a way that Olivia was not. 

Esmé turned to Olivia, “And this one is for you.” She handed Olivia a set of burnished orange pyjamas that tied at the front. Olivia took them gently, feeling the satin slip like water through her fingers. 

“Thank you, Esmé, this is very kind,” she said quietly, pulling the lace edging through her fingertips. Feeling the ridges, textured but soft under her touch.

“You’re welcome, darling,” Esmé grinned widely, dragging a fingertip across Olivia’s collarbone. Olivia felt a series of goosebumps rise on her skin under Esmé’s fingernail. 

Georgina came back out from behind the screen, somehow looking incredibly put together despite being in pyjamas and barefooted. Olivia saw the way the deep blue silk cascaded across Georgina’s chest and felt her mouth go dry. 

Georgina smiled at her, gently placing a finger under her chin, “My eyes are up here, gorgeous.” 

Olivia blushed and crossed behind the screen to get changed. She pulled the satin over her bare skin, revelling in the soft slip it offered her. The shirt exposed more of her collarbones and chest than she would have traditionally chosen for herself, but she felt slightly exhilarated by the idea that Esmé had picked this out for her. Visualised her in it. Bought it for her. 

It was nice to be wanted. 

She stepped out from behind the screen, dark hair flouncing around her shoulders in deep contrast to the rust colour of her shirt. Georgina and Esmé turned to look at her. It wasn’t the first time she had felt undressed by a look from either of them, but it was distinctly overwhelming coming from both of them at once. 

Esmé had finally put on some clothes, though they could hardly be described as clothes, Olivia thought. She had chosen a sleeveless black silk nightgown which barely skimmed the top of her thighs and a matching jacket which was shorter than the dress. Olivia felt her eyes flick to the bottom of the garment, of their own accord. She blushed, seeing just how much of Esmé’s thighs was on show. 

Georgina giggled, tilting her head towards Olivia, “It’s possible that dress was designed for a shorter woman, my dear.” 

Esmé scoffed, and swatted Georgina’s arm, “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

“Um, could I ask?” Olivia interjected, “Given the pyjamas, I assume this is a…” she desperately searched for a word that wasn’t ‘slumber party’, “an overnight type situation.” She curled her fingers furiously, trying to prevent the rising tide of embarrassment in her cheeks. 

“Of course, darling,” Esmé stretched her arm out towards Olivia, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

Olivia nodded, “That sounds nice.”

* * *

Esmé and Georgina led Olivia to a second sitting room. Judging by Georgina’s sure-footed pace, Olivia guessed that this was a regular routine for the two of them. She felt somewhat honoured to have been invited at all, especially with the lack of explicit sexual motivation for her invitation.

Esmé’s second sitting room was just as grand as the first. Floor to ceiling windows stretched out before her, offering an inky expanse of city sky, clouded by a bank of gray mist that enveloped the windows with a frigid chill Olivia swore she could feel. Georgina wasted no time in crossing to a tall bookcase, in a deep rosewood, and dragging a fingernail across several spines before finding one she liked and pulling it from the shelf with a satisfying swish as the books beside it shuffled to fill the gap. Olivia hesitated, seeing that there were two long couches opposite each other, ensnaring a long coffee table in the same deep wood as the bookshelves. 

She almost jumped when she felt Esmé’s fingernails graze the palm of her hand, before dancing around her waist.

Esmé leaned her head down to press her lips to Olivia’s ear, “Sit down, darling.” 

Olivia caught sight of Georgina giving Esmé a disparaging look, “Don’t.” 

Olivia twisted herself round in Esmé’s grip, she met Esmé’s gaze fiercely, “It’s fine.” She felt her stomach jolt when Esmé grinned like she wanted to devour her, “Where shall I sit?” 

Esmé suppressed her gut response and settled for, “Anywhere you like.”

Olivia settled herself boldly in the centre of the couch opposite the windows, she told herself it was because she wanted to have the best view of the lit windows of other tower blocks twinkling like stars. Esmé followed suit and flopped herself, gracelessly next to her, immediately wrapping her arm around Olivia’s shoulder. Olivia leant her weight into the side of Esmé’s ribs and sighed at the warm contact. 

Georgina flipped through a few pages of the book in her hand, almost slicing her thumb on a stiff page, “Shall we order food?”

“God, yes,” Olivia said, the sound coming out particularly muffled as her face was half obscured by Esmé’s collar bone. 

“Ooh, there’s a  _ lovely  _ little place down near sixth, Thai food is very  _ in _ .” 

Olivia spent the rest of the evening being fed small pieces of food from Esmé’s fork, 

_ “Esmé she can feed herself,” Georgina rolled her eyes.  _

_ Olivia shrugged, “Somehow, I’m completely okay with this.” _

Once fed and offered a soft fleece blanket, Olivia felt her eyelids slip closed of their own accord. Her breathing slowed to a soft sigh, and she drifted into the firm grasp of sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!!!! Lmk what you think xoxo


	5. Come On, Lets Talk About Our Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again Jacquelyn is the only woman here with any sense. Olivia talks about her feelings and is rewarded with more kisses in an elevator.

Olivia bundled herself into her front door and, after typing her alarm code wrong twice before finally getting it correct, flicked her kettle on. 

Winter had well and truly set in over New York. Thick sheets of rain thundered down onto Olivia’s roof, briefly making her question whether her kettle was even boiling, or whether she had missed the switch and her ears were being fooled by the cacophony of sound from outside. Her fingers were regularly chilled to the point of numbness, and she couldn’t remember the last time the tip of her nose hadn’t been bright red and dripping snot. 

That, and Jacquelyn had texted her something sarcastic about the term ‘cuffing season’ right before inviting herself over for pizza and wine. 

Jacquelyn rammed her key, wet with rain, into Olivia’s lock fifteen minutes later to find a steaming cup of tea and her friend, hair wet and fluffy terry robe on, perched at the kitchen table. 

Olivia motioned towards the tea, “Hi, Jac,” she said distractedly, not tearing her eyes from her phone. 

Jacquelyn frowned before placing her dripping coat gingerly on the coat rack, keeping her arms braced on its spindly rods until she was sure it wouldn’t collapse. 

She turned to Olivia, “What kind of tea is it?” 

Olivia didn’t respond, frowning intently at the dimly lit screen in front of her. 

Jacquelyn sighed and inspected the tea herself, her nose concluding that it was some kind of berry and chamomile, before sitting next to Olivia. She craned her neck into Olivia’s personal space, in a way that only a best friend could, and narrowed her eyes at the screen. Olivia sighed and passed her the device. 

_ Georgie and I would like to see you at the weekend _

It was currently Monday, Jacquelyn dreaded to think about how much over analysing Olivia could accomplish between now and the weekend. 

Jacquelyn turned to Olivia, “This is _ good _, Liv, you don’t have to worry so much about things all the time.” She took a sip of her tea, which had cooled to the perfect drinking temperature in the time since Olivia had made it. 

Olivia groaned, “I just don’t know where this is going,” she paused momentarily. Jacquelyn opened her mouth to respond, but was immediately cut off by Olivia, waving her arms around and launching into what was clearly an overly prepared speech, “I thought this was just going to be sex,” Olivia felt her ears turn red but powered through regardless, largely because she couldn’t convince herself that if she stopped, she would be able to start again, “which is weird because I’m really not a ‘just sex’ kind of person. But then they asked to see me and hang out?” The question was clearly rhetorical, “Okay, fine, so maybe this is a friends with benefits kind of situation, I can cope with that. Maybe. I think. Except that I have never known either Esmé or Georgina to actively seek out a friendship with anyone. They’re both incredibly aloof and, if I’m honest, intimidating.” Olivia paused for the briefest of moments to take a breath, “But then they were both so nice to me? And now they want to see me again. Except I have no idea if this is a date, or a hang out, or a hook-up.” She groaned and flopped her head onto her folded arms, narrowly missing flicking her hair into Jacquelyn’s tea. 

Jacquelyn allowed herself a moment to digest Olivia’s speech. She took another long sip of her tea, sharp berry and rounded chamomile dancing across her tongue, vapour warming her chilled skin.

She sighed, “Okay, I’m ordering pizza before I even begin to touch that pile of emotional labour with a ten-foot pole.”

* * *

Jacquelyn sat, forty minutes later, on Olivia’s two-seater threadbare couch, in a borrowed t-shirt and pyjama pants, three slices of pizza down,

“Okay, so what’s the ideal outcome here? What’s the goal?” She bent the crust of her pizza in half before swallowing half the slice in one gulp. 

Olivia dropped her weight back against the couch. Unlike Jacquelyn, who preferred her pizza to be transported directly from the box to her mouth, Olivia had fetched a plate from the kitchen and artfully arranged four slices on it before eating it slightly more delicately. 

“I don’t know,” she groaned. She pulled a piece of pepperoni off the pizza, fixating her gaze on the oily string of cheese left in its wake. 

Jacquelyn groaned, “Yes you do, don’t be ridiculous. You know.” 

Olivia rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine, yes, I know. I want to date them. I want to date them both and I want them to also be dating me.”

“A throuple. That’s what that’s called, Liv.” Jacquelyn wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

Olivia busied herself with the slice of pizza in her grasp, ignoring Jacquelyn’s sarcastic look. 

Jacquelyn shrugged, “I don’t see what the big deal is, it’s pretty normal nowadays.” 

Olivia sighed, “I’ve just never done this before. That and I can’t read them to save my life, Jac. I never have any idea what they want from me.”

Jacquelyn snorted, “Well, _ that’s _ not true.” 

Olivia laughed. She hadn’t been able to refrain from gushing to Jacquelyn, in more detail than was perhaps appropriate, about the sex. It wasn’t something she was particularly used to sharing. She was well accustomed to Jacquelyn calling her approximately thirty seconds after her most recent one night stand had left and immediately going through the entire evening in minute detail while Olivia listened and tried not to blush, but she could never quite visualise herself having the same conversation. And then she had slept with a blonde financier and a coy optometrist that she was growing fonder of by the minute. 

“Okay, okay,” Olivia relented, “_ sometimes _ I know what they want from me. But in _ those _scenarios they usually specifically ask.” 

“I still can’t believe Doctor Georgina Orwell, renowned ice queen and well known _ arsonist _, made you breakfast,” Jacquelyn said around her sixth slice of pizza. She leaned forwards and grabbed a piece of garlic bread, oil coating her fingertips with a satisfying slip. 

“Me neither,” Olivia answered simply, largely because it was true. She waited for Jacquelyn to fill the gap, but when she didn’t, she sighed slightly. She tapped her plate onto the coffee table, next to the stack of pizza boxes, pieces of pizza almost untouched, 

“I just don’t really know what to do about it.”

Jacquelyn eyed the pizza on Olivia’s plate, “Are you done with that?” She waited for Olivia to nod before grabbing the plate, “You have to talk to them.”

“But I don’t know that I _ can _, Jac.” Olivia groaned and dug her fingers into a knot at the back of her neck, “It feels rude to just ask to join a relationship that isn't yours. What if that’s not what they want?”

Jacquelyn sighed, “Okay, yes, I technically see that.” She raised her eyebrows, “It’s not what I would do, but I get it.” Jacquelyn paused, dipping a slice of pizza crust into sauce before jamming it into her mouth, “So go and meet them at the weekend and try to read the vibe. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“I know you’re trying to make it better but oh my god that makes it so much worse,” Olivia complained. 

Jacquelyn laughed, “Just go.”

* * *

Olivia did as Jacquelyn had instructed and met Georgina and Esmé. 

She had bitten the bullet and texted Georgina first. It had been a long time since she agonised over the politics of whether she was or was not allowed to text someone. She had only every responded, in the briefest possible detail, when either Georgina or Esmé pinged through on her phone. She didn’t like to admit it but her text tone was beginning to initiate some kind of warped pavlovian anxiety response in the pit of her stomach. She had started to leave her phone on silent most of the time. It stopped her from obsessively hearing the tone looped in the back of her brain like a lab rat on a treadmill. 

Fingers jittering across the keyboard as she tapped out and deleted a text. After several clunky drafts, she landed on, 

_ Hi Georgina, do you and Esmé still want to do something today? _

She didn’t know why the idea of sending a simple text had her brain running at warp speed. _ Well _, maybe she did know, but that didn’t stop her from feeling slightly frustrated at her inability to curb her brain. 

The nervous buzz at the back of her skull was soothed slightly when Georgina texted back almost immediately, 

_ Of course. Esmé has a restaurant in mind. Black tie. We’ll pick you up at eight. _

She sighed. _ Black tie. Shoot. _It had been a long time since she was required to wear anything that even remotely qualified as black tie. 

She squinted and tried to picture her wardrobe. Her work desk, scattered with papers, several take out coffee cups, and a stack of books she had yet to put away, swam unhelpfully behind her eyelids. She thought she vaguely remembered an ankle length floaty dress in a navy chiffon. It probably needed steaming, but she thought she could manage it. She made a mental note that, if this were to continue in any sense, more black tie clothing would likely be a thing she needed. 

Beyond the vague sense of impending panic about having to dress up, she could feel some niggling kernel of excitement. There was something energising and thrilling about the concept of Esmé and Georgina dressing themselves up specifically to see her. And each other. 

She tapped her foot impatiently behind the counter while she eyed the clock on the wall opposite that seemed to tick more slowly with every passing second that brought her closer to five. 

She helped a man with his tax return while deciding what shade of lipstick she should wear. Or whether she should even wear lipstick.

She checked a book out for a rude woman who huffed when Olivia explained that she had to pay her fines before she could borrow anything else while agonising over which shoes would give her an extra few inches, without looking like she was trying to tower clumsily over the other two women.

  
And she returned a stack of books taller than she was to their appropriate shelves while deciding that navy blue nail polish that matched her dress was definitely the best option. 

The clock ticked over and her colleague Jean rushed through the door, only just on time, as usual. She held a cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand and had her coat and bag draped over the other. 

Olivia stood, on the other side of the library counter, coat on, bag packed, as Jean skated across the foyer. 

“Hi, Olivia, how are you, love?” she asked, dumping her peeling red faux leather bag into the chair behind the desk and narrowly avoiding spilling her coffee on a pile of forms. 

Olivia smiled as politely and patiently as she could manage, “I’m great, thank you, Jean! I have to go though, I have a date.” She grinned in a way that she hoped came across as poised and collected. 

“Ohh, anything nice?” Jean raised her eyebrows suggestively, “Is he pretty?” 

Olivia rolled her eyes, already navigating her way through a slalom of computer desks and book trolleys. She flicked her head around long enough to say, “Yes,” before thrusting her shoulder into the heavy varnished double doors and running out of the building in the hopes of catching the early bus.

* * *

“Georgie what should I wear?” Esmé asked, flat on her back, on Georgina’s bed, staring intently at her Instagram feed on a phone bigger than Georgina thought should be categorized as a phone, held inches above her face. 

She was also very naked. 

Georgina smirked, “What you’re wearing now is good,” she offered, unhelpfully, skimming her fingers through her wardrobe. 

Esmé rolled her eyes, “I _ hardly _ think the restaurant is likely to let me in looking like this. Even if I do look stunning.” She narrowed her eyes at her screen, “Where did she _ get that _ ? I thought it wasn’t available ‘til next season?” Georgina stayed silent, aware that any response she could offer wasn’t what Esmé wanted to hear. Georgina pulled a skin tight emerald green cocktail dress from the rail while she listened to Esmé’s nails skirt angrily across her screen. No doubt she was texting someone who knew someone who knew another someone who could get her whatever it was _ she _ from Instagram was wearing. 

Georgina pulled the edge of her lip into her mouth, “I take that back, I know _ exactly _what you should wear.” She pulled a two more hangers from the rail and waved them in Esmé’s direction. 

The blonde grinned wickedly, “Oh, _ yes _.”

* * *

Olivia waited restlessly with a cup of tea at her kitchen table at seven fifty. She was beginning to mildly regret the tea, worried that the extra caffeine hit might disrupt her ability to enjoy the evening in a measured and well paced way. By the time she heard the knock on her door at five past eight, she was having to concentrate specifically on breathing at even intervals. 

She took a deep, shaky, breath, shrugged on her new coat, and opened the door.

She was met with the face of Doctor Georgina Orwell, grinning widely, white teeth flashing.

“Hi, Olivia,” she purred, stretching her fingertips out to stroke the arm of Olivia’s coat. 

Olivia felt momentarily light-headed when she caught sight of what Esmé and Georgina were wearing. 

Both of them were dressed in black suits with crisp, white shirts and black ties. 

Olivia felt her mouth go dry, “I didn’t realise when you said black tie you meant…” she trailed off. 

Esmé stretched out a fingertip and ran it down the edge of Olivia’s jaw, towering over her in her usual patent leather Louboutins, “You look wonderful, darling.”

* * *

Olivia didn’t know what she expected, but when Esmé wheeled her into a gold elevator, that she painfully endured without so much as kissing either of them, and out onto a rooftop terrace that looked over half of Manhattan, she found herself astonished. She felt a singular tear slide down her face that she very quickly brushed away as she felt a stone sink into the bottom of her stomach. She wasn’t sure why it was there, but it was. 

“Orwell, party of three,” Georgina said in a clipped voice to a short woman in a white shirt, blonde hair slicked back to her head. The woman nodded and motioned to take their coats. 

“It’s mink,” Esmé warned lowly from the back of her throat as the woman slid the wrap from the top of her shoulders. 

Olivia allowed the woman to remove her coat before following a tall man in a bow tie across the restaurant. Plants snaked their way between tables, long strings of marbled leaves swaying gently in the breeze. Olivia was grateful for the balmy air, a relative rarity in New York, aided by the addition of several large heat lamps, and craned her neck across to see hundreds of tiny yellow windows, lit light stars against the dark city skyline. 

The man gestured to a table at the back of the restaurant, relatively secluded from the low babble of conversation that floated around her in soft waves. Georgina and Esmé sat together on one side of the table, leaving Olivia to sit across from them. Olivia felt the stone get slightly heavier. 

“How are we tonight, ladies?” The man asked, flashing a smile that went somewhat beyond middling customer service expectations. Olivia instantly felt more at ease. She smiled and nodded, looking to Georgina to speak.

Georgina gave her a conspicuous wink before draping herself across her chair, “Good, thank you, Luis.”

Olivia was suddenly very aware of herself. If Georgina and Esmé were regulars, her addition would surely be noted. 

Luis inclined his head towards Esmé, “The usual, Ms. Squalor?” 

Esmé nodded, “Thank you, darling.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Caliban, my name is Luis. Can I get you a drink to start?” He smiled warmly, opening his palm in a gesture of welcome. 

“Um, hi Luis,” Olivia stuttered.

“Do you want alcohol?” Georgina asked. Olivia nodded. “She’ll have something sweet and not too strong.” Luis nodded and skated away, leaving them to talk. 

Olivia smiled, her eyes flitting over the two other women and eventually settling on the skyline, “Thank you for inviting me here. It’s… beautiful.” 

Esmé smiled, “Yes, I have a bit of a soft spot for it.” 

“Um, do we get menus or?” She furrowed her brow as Georgina sighed, “I’m sorry, did I-”

“No, no,” Georgina consoled her, “It’s just my biggest reservation about this place.”

Esmé rolled her eyes, “I don’t get it, Georgie, they make you what you want. You’ve never had anything bad here.”

Georgina narrowed her eyes, “It’s something about the lack of control, Esmé, we’ve been over this.” 

Esmé snorted, “We all know how you feel about _ that _.” She turned to Olivia, raking over her shoulders with glittering eyes, “How was work today, darling?” 

Olivia nodded, “It was okay,” she flicked her eyes down into her lap, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “It seemed to take forever.” 

Before Esmé could prod her any further over what exactly that meant, Luis arrived brandishing a round tray with three drinks. He placed a Martini glass across to Esmé, a short glass stacked with crushed ice and clear alcohol in front of Georgina and a tall, wide drink in a lurid green shade on the table for Olivia with a small tap. 

“Thank you,” Olivia smiled. 

He nodded, “Your food will be with you shortly,” he added before retreating to another table. 

The trio fell into an easy, if inconsequential, conversation during which Georgina rolled her eyes affectionately several times when Esmé bragged that she was ignoring contact from a particular former child actress in the name of keeping her personal stylist secret. They both listened attentively when Olivia offered limited information about Jacquelyn and the state of the library’s funding. Georgina neglected to share more information about herself than necessary, though Olivia did notice that about three quarters of the way through her drink, she let slip that she had a sister. Judging by Esmé’s expression, this was not a surprise to her, but Olivia allowed the admission to lessen the weight behind her midriff that was beginning to feel more like a pebble than a brick. 

Luis came back with a set of three small plates, shortly followed by another man with a second tray of drinks. Olivia noted, mercifully, that her second round was virgin. 

By the time they reached the dessert, Olivia had been presented with a deep dish of molten chocolate cake, Georgina and Esmé had begun to look more serious. Olivia tried to ignore it and allow herself to enjoy the liquid sweetness on her spoon, but she was finding it increasingly difficult. 

Esmé watched Olivia intently every time she raised the spoon to her mouth, right until the last bite of cake was gone. 

Georgina shot Esmé a look. Esmé who was grinning like a mountain lion, flipping her fluffy blonde hair, and being completely unhelpful, as usual. 

“We’d like you to join us,” Georgina faltered, she wasn’t used to asking people for things she wanted, “romantically, I mean.” 

Olivia frowned, “So this isn’t just sexual?”

Esmé pouted, “What gave you that impression?”

Georgina placed her fingertips on Esmé’s arm. She didn’t dig them in, but Esmé felt the heat radiate outward in small circles. A warning.

Olivia looked at the streaks of chocolate slowly drying in her bowl, “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t think of you guys as the romantic type.” 

Esmé scoffed slightly.

Georgina stretched out a hand towards Olivia, her fingers stalling in the night air between them, “That’s a fair assessment. Our relationship doesn’t function in a particularly traditional way,” there was a pause as Esmé tilted her head in a way she probably thought came off as noncommittal but Olivia definitely read as innuendo, “but we’d like to try to make this work.” 

Olivia nodded, “Okay,” she took a breath and flicked her eyes between Georgina and Esmé. Esmé, for all her self-centred arrogance, looked at Olivia, attention rapt. Georgina’s brow furrowed slightly as she pulled the corner of her lip between her teeth. “I need some time to think about it. And I also need something more tangible about the definition of ‘non-traditional’.” She hoped it was clear enough, but she couldn’t let this sit in the realm of ‘we’ll figure it out’. Her brain was too systematic for that. She needed rules. Order. 

Georgina nodded, “We can work with that. Give it some thought.” 

Esmé grinned, flashing more teeth than Olivia thought a human skull could contain. She leaned across Georgina, delicately balancing her jaw on the palm of her hand, “And even if you don’t want to go all in. Please don’t lose my number, darling, I can’t stand the thought of never seeing your pretty little-” 

“Esmé,” Georgina scolded. 

“_ Face _, again,” Esmé finished pointedly. 

Olivia laughed nervously, “I’ll call you.” She paused, “I promise.”

* * *

Jacquelyn lay in Olivia’s slighlty-smaller-than-a-double bed, feeling Olivia’s elbow jut into her ribs, while she listened to Olivia breathe faster than she perhaps should have. Olivia always seemed to breathe particularly quickly. She did everything quickly. Operating at twice the speed of everyone else. Always running from place to place like something was chasing her. It was unnerving. 

Olivia tilted her face into Jacquelyn’s shoulder, basking in the warm, rounded scent of Jacquelyn’s skin, she giggled slightly, trying to suppress the bubbling laughter in her throat. 

Jacquelyn snorted and allowed her chest to heave with laughter. 

“Are you _ sure _you didn’t mishear her?” Jacquelyn asked, high-pitched and breathless. 

“Pretty little face, I swear that’s what she said,” Olivia wiped a tear that was trailing its way across toward her jaw. 

Jacquelyn allowed the tears to subside before continuing, “So, are you seeing them again?” 

Olivia sighed, remembering the elevator ride down from the restaurant, her skin smattered with soft kisses, “Mmhm.” She sighed again, more deeply this time, “But it’ll have to be a serious conversation. I don’t know that I’m ready for it.”

Jacquelyn shrugged slightly, surveying a hairline crack in Olivia’s plastering, “No one’s ever ready for anything.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Olivia admitted. She pulled her duvet up around her shoulder, the soft flannel against her skin pacifying her slightly, “But I can’t take ‘we’ll make it work’ as a real assurance.” 

Jacquelyn dragged the tip of her thumb across Olivia’s arm, “I know you can’t, pet, but it’ll be okay. I’m sure of it.” 

Olivia looked up into deep brown eyes, “You really think so?” 

Jacquelyn rolled her eyes, “Christ, Liv, _ someone _has to.”

* * *

Olivia strode her way over to Georgina’s Upper West Side brownstone twenty minutes earlier than she was supposed to. 

She had agonised over it for the past three hours, _ that’ll teach you to keep the rest of the day clear for ‘relaxing time’ like that was ever going to happen _. She was still acutely aware of what had happened last time she was early to a meeting with Esmé and Georgina, but she had decided to knock loudly and take her chances. That, and she could no longer stand sitting in her house vibrating with anticipation. 

The cool night hair chilled her slightly, and refocused her nerves. Keeping her warm was clearly a more important task for her nervous system than maintaining her circle of thoughts, because as soon as the evening frost hit her skin, she felt her heart rate decrease noticeably. Her feet found their way to Georgina’s house of their own accord. She could usually rely on her innate sense of direction to lead her where she needed to go while her brain was otherwise occupied. 

She stepped up the bowed stairs to Georgina’s door and rang the doorbell. 

Georgina answered the door moments later, she leaned one shoulder against the door frame and tilted her head, a curtain of dark hair sweeping down away from her jaw, “Hi.” 

“Hi, Georgina,” Olivia smiled up at the taller woman, feeling a sense of warmth wash through her chest. 

Georgina stepped aside, “Please, come in.” 

Olivia wasn’t quite sure how she managed it, but Georgina always seemed to look dressed up. Today was no different, despite the fact that she was only wearing a loose blouse and cigarette pants. Now that she thought about it, it was likely something to do with Esmé, but that didn’t change the fact that Olivia felt severely underdressed in jeans. Even if they were her nicest black pair. 

“Esmé isn’t here yet,” Georgina flicked her eyes at the gold watch on her wrist, “though she won’t have finished at the office yet. Can I interest you in a drink?” 

Olivia nodded, “A soft drink would be nice.”

Georgina pulled a glass bottle from the fridge and two stemmed glasses from an overhead cabinet. Olivia tried not to notice the way the movement made the muscles in her shoulder ripple beneath her shirt. 

“It’s sparkling raspberry and hibiscus,” she looked over at Olivia, the ghost of a smile playing across her face, “It’s _ in _.” 

“Ah, I see,” Olivia joined her in smiling, “Is this a more drinkable one?” 

Georgina laughed softly, “Lucky for you, it is.” She closed the gap between them in three strides and passed Olivia her glass. She raised her own glass to her lips and tilted her head back, allowing the floral scent of the drink to envelop her senses. Olivia watched the expanse of Georgina’s throat and waited, feeling tantalised as Georgina seemed to drink in slow motion. She waited very patiently for Georgina to drop the glass to waist height before tilting her head up and pressing her lips into Georgina’s. The taller woman hummed, charmed by Olivia’s growing penchant for forwardness, and tangled her fingers into the other woman’s hair. Olivia smiled and sighed softly, feeling Georgina part her lips and drag her tongue across her own. Georgina tilted her jaw away from Olivia’s, but pulled her body closer, arm snaring her waist, 

“Is that a yes?” she asked, one eyebrow raised, trying to conceal a flicker of nervous excitement. 

Olivia nodded and grinned widely, “Yes. Yes, it’s a yes. You know, I wanna talk about some rules and stuff first but… Yes. Yes.” She felt her words run away with her, spilling from her mouth like a gushing faucet, but something about the way Georgina smiled with an eager gleam in her eyes made her think that she didn’t mind. 

Georgina pressed her lips to Olivia’s forehead feeling her heart flutter behind her ribcage. She was about to speak when there was a sharp tap at the door. 

There was a dull grating sound of a key entering the lock, moments before Esmé Squalor waltzed into Georgina’s entrance way. 

She wasted no time in striding up to Olivia, teeth bared in a broad smile, “So?”

Olivia exhaled a short laugh, “Yes, yes.” 

Esmé emitted a high-pitched sound that Olivia thought a less sensible woman may have termed a squeal and pressed Olivia into her chest, she caught Georgina’s eye, “Can I interest anyone in some celebratory sex?” 

Olivia blushed, “Yes, but I want to talk about this first.”

Esmé nodded, “Okay, darling,” she looked at Georgina, “Can I have wine?”

“Wine?” Georgina inclined her head toward Olivia.

Olivia shrugged, “Sure.”

Olivia curled herself into a deep leather armchair and immediately dragged a soft wool blanket across her lap. She pulled at the tassel on its corner, grey and cream threads parting around her fingertips. Georgina crossed the room and placed a glass of chilled rosé into her hand. She stretched out her fingertips and curled Esmé into her shoulder on the plush white couch across from Olivia. 

Georgina tilted her head, inviting Olivia to begin.

“So, is there anyone else I should know about?” she asked, hoping the question sounded more tactful than it felt.

Esmé shrugged, “We don’t sleep with other people regularly. Although Georgie, you have that woman in Reno.” Esmé raised her eyebrows slightly, having artfully draped herself across both Georgina and the couch. 

Georgina sighed wistfully, “Farrah. God it’s been a while,” she made a mental note to google flights to California next time she looked at her phone, “and you continue to see that party girl down in the Keys.” 

“Oh she’s _ nice _,” Esmé purred. 

“But it’s not a regular thing?” Olivia asked.

“No,” Georgina clarified, “I decided I wasn’t particularly fond of running into old flames anywhere near where I live.” Esmé snorted. “Not that we’d mind, if you’re interested.” Georgina added. 

Olivia shook her head quickly, “No, I think trying to navigate this,” she waved her hand vaguely in front of her, “Is enough for now.” 

Esmé nodded, “I can quite understand.” 

Olivia slipped into spilling various details about her likes and dislikes far more easily than she had anticipated. The way the blunt edge of Georgina’s hair brushed the edge of her sharp jaw made her face soft and attentive. Esmé fiddled with her nails and her rings and the edge of Georgina’s jacket, but she always responded considerately to Olivia’s concerns, and Olivia determined that looking inattentive was clearly Esmé’s preferred method of active listening. She couldn’t place exactly when it happened, but at some point she noticed herself engaging less with the honeyed flow of conversation, currently circling precisely why Esmé would only permit Georgina to take ownership of one of the dressing rooms in 667 Dark Avenue, and focusing more on wishing she had opted to sit between the two other women, rather than across from them. 

“Is there anything else, specific, that you wanted to ask?” Georgina offered, during a lull in conversation, her wine glass now empty and abandoned on the table before her. 

Olivia shook her head. 

She grinned slightly, “I’m getting kind of cold though.” 

She watched Esmé roll her eyes affectionately, “Come and sit over here then.” 

Olivia decided to take the invitation, extorted as it may have been, and wormed her way between the other women, before allowing Esmé to place her feet back across Georgina’s lap. Georgina wrapped an arm around Olivia’s shoulders and placed her chin on the brunette’s head.

Olivia allowed her eyelids to fall closed and sighed, “I could get used to this.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!! Final chapter coming soon.


	6. Sinner's Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgina, Esmé, and Olivia embark on a, largely ordinary, Friday night.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I highly advise you read the tags on this one, folks. It won't be to everyone's taste. The sex scene is contained within asterisks, so please feel free to skip it.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I report pedophiles
> 
> Don’t interact with my fics if you post/read ageplay or sexual content that features minors, even if they’re aged up.

_\----Six Months Later---- _

Olivia awoke, eyes straining against the dim light, searching for an indication of the time. The neon red numbers of her alarm clock taunting her, just outside her line of vision. She sighed and obliged, leaning forwards and craning her neck towards the flashing display. 5:38. She rolled her eyes but decided that it was late enough to get up and heaved herself out of bed.

A pleasant anticipatory tingle buzzed at the end of her fingertips and settled itself behind her ribcage. She did the math. It would be thirteen hours before she saw them. The word ‘girlfriends’ had been tossed around. Usually in private when she was slightly giggly and tipsy, more often on endless swathes of affection than alcohol, but the rosé helped. She wasn’t sure she was ready to commit to it when sober yet.

Her phone rang later in the morning, when she had showered and dressed and made herself coffee. She didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know it was Esmé. Six months didn’t really feel like a long time, but it was long enough for her to feel a wash of warm relief when Esmé called, rather than a sense of moderate fear.

“Hi Esmé,” Olivia answered, the phone pressed to her ear with her shoulder as she tipped the remainder of the coffee into a copper travel flask.

“Good morning,” Esmé purred.

Olivia smiled, “How can I help you?” she asked, teasing the other woman slightly.

“When are you coming over?” Esmé responded, an edge of familiar petulance entering her tone.

“Unfortunately, Esmé, some of us have to work regular hours,” Olivia needled.

Esmé scoffed, “You know I could fix that for you.”

Olivia rolled her eyes, throwing a loose pen and her diary into her bag before closing her apartment door behind her, “And you know what I’ll say to that. I’ll be there at eight.”

Olivia could almost hear Esmé pout, “Can we make it seven?”

Olivia felt herself bend to Esmé’s will. She didn’t do it particularly often, but it was hard to resist when she was just as anxious as Esmé was to meet.

“Yes, I’ll see you at seven.” Olivia moved the phone to her other ear while she wrestled her hair out of the collar of her coat, “I have to go to work now but I’ll see you later.”

Esmé sighed, “I’ll see you later, darling.”

* * *

Olivia made her way uptown after her shift. She told herself she was going home to shower and get changed. And then Esmé had called, all pouting and purring smiles and Olivia had caved. Her feet clicked the familiar path to Georgina’s terrace. She had made it known relatively early that she preferred to meet at Georgina’s house. Something about 667 Dark Avenue made her uneasy, it was sprawling and far too easy to get lost in. And she couldn’t quite shake feeling like a courtesan in a medieval palace, tiptoeing her way across marble floors between ostentatious pillars. Georgina’s house may have been spread across five floors, but at least each floor was manageably sized in contrast to Esmé’s seventy-one rooms.

Esmé answered Georgina’s front door, grin splitting her face ear to ear as she raked her eyes across Olivia.

“Nice of you to finally show up.”

Olivia rolled her eyes, “Hello to you too.”

Esmé wrapped long fingers around the back of Olivia’s neck and placed her other hand on Olivia’s hip, pulling her closer. Olivia wrapped her arms around Esmé’s neck, catching notes of amber and cherry in her perfume. She flicked her gaze towards Esmé’s lips, full and coated in an inviting, jet black lipstick. Esmé tilted her head and pressed her lips to Olivia’s, sucking Olivia’s bottom lip between her teeth. Olivia hummed and felt her core tense. Esmé flicked her tongue across the other woman’s teeth, feeling her lipstick streak across her mouth.

Olivia heard a vague groan from across the room, “Esmé, let the poor woman get in the door first.”

Esmé let out a frustrated growl, “I have waited _all_ day, Georgie.”

Georgina crossed the room and wrapped an arm loosely around Esmé’s waist, “And you can wait another thirty seconds, my dear, while Olivia comes inside and takes her coat off.”

Olivia smiled and did as she was told, stepping across the threshold into the wide foyer. Georgina took her coat off for her, something that Olivia had grown strangely accustomed to now, before offering her a drink.

“I would love a drink, please, G, but what I really need is a _shower_,” Olivia responded, hoping the hint landed that she would prefer to shower alone.

“Sure, we’ll see you in a bit,” Georgina answered before Esmé had a chance to huff about being made to wait more than a few minutes for something she wanted.

* * *

Olivia allowed the warm drumming of the shower jets to heat her skin and untie the tightness in her shoulders and lower back. She felt water cascade through her hair as she tried to will the rampant hum in her core to dull. She grinned and bit her lip.

She reappeared from the bathroom an hour later in a robe Georgina seemed to permanently leave out for her. Her hair now soft and dry and her skin perfumed with some kind of expensive lotion that rotated every few weeks. Olivia wondered idly if Georgina ever finished a jar or if she just got bored with the scent.

Esmé grinned widely and leaned over the arm of the couch, her spine bending sickeningly, to greet Olivia with a glass in her outstretched hand. Olivia took the glass and flopped herself on the couch between the two other women, the cushions yielding softly beneath her weight. Georgina conspicuously ran a hand through the tips of Olivia’s hair,

“You smell good,” she tilted her head towards Olivia.

Esmé sat up abruptly, “Are we going upstairs?”

Olivia tilted her jaw toward the ceiling and drained her glass, “Yes.”

*****

Olivia ran her fingers across the zipper at the back of Georgina’s dress while Esmé teased her sharp nails at the edge of Georgina’s jaw. Olivia flicked her eyes across at Esmé and refrained from giggling when Georgina tipped her head back and sighed, a raw edge of impatience entering her throat,

“I continue to be wearing too many clothes.”

Olivia obliged in a way that she knew Esmé wouldn’t have and pulled the zipper down, trailing her fingernail across the exposed expanse of skin. She revelled in the low gasp Georgina emitted before tugging her dress down over her hips. Georgina wasted no time in pressing her bare hips against Esmé and baring her teeth, skirting her fingers across Esmé’s blazer and undoing her buttons as quickly and as delicately as she could manage. Olivia took Georgina’s hint and dropped her robe to the floor of her own accord before toppling somewhere toward the centre of Georgina’s bed, not making any effort to clear the mound of decorative pillows artfully arranged against the headboard.

She watched Georgina strip Esmé’s clothes and wrench them to the floor, all while keeping her teeth pressed viciously against Esmé’s neck. Esmé cast her eyes across at Olivia, her gaze revealing far more about what she wanted to do to her than her mouth ever could. The blonde dug her nails into the flesh of Georgina’s thigh,

“Ready, darling?” she asked, to no one in particular.

“God yes,” Olivia responded, piling a small heap of pillows in the centre of the bed. She did her best to pick the pillows that could go in the washer, after having had too many instances of ruined silk.

They had discussed the precise intricacies of how tonight would progress in what had felt like infinitesimal detail. Upon learning that this was new for her, both Esmé and Georgina had insisted on briefing her and negotiating the specific terms of her consent. It was endearing and sweet, but Olivia was also immensely glad they could now just start.

She knelt on the pile of pillows, sinking into soft feathers, she craned her neck round in anticipation and watched Esmé and Georgina caught up in a particularly heady kiss. She waited for a few moments, willing herself to be patient. She heard herself cough before she could help it.

Georgina turned her head towards Olivia, “Yes, my dear?”

Olivia groaned, “Don’t make me say it.”

Georgina stalked towards her, limbs bending and poised as she leaned over her, fingers under Olivia’s jaw, tilting her face upward.

She bared her teeth and tilted her head, hair sweeping away from her face, “Say it.”

Olivia whined, “Please, Georgina.”

Esmé crossed to stand next to Georgina, “Oh come on, Olivia, you can do so much better than that.” Her eyes sparkled with black anticipation as she trailed a fingertip across Olivia’s collarbone.

Olivia flicked her eyes between the other women, four dark pupils boring into her, “Please,” her voice dropped to barely above a whisper, “please fuck me.” She felt her stomach clench and a deep heat buzz in her core.

Georgina pressed her lips to Olivia’s for the first time that evening. She felt Olivia yield beneath her touch, melting into the contact like she had been waiting her entire life for Georgina to chastely press her lips against her.

Olivia heard Esmé open a drawer distantly behind her, she furrowed her brow, desperately trying to maintain the fire in her jaw Georgina had ignited. She grasped at Georgina’s hip, the dexterity in her fingertips threatening to fail her. A warm presence washed over her as Esmé passed something to Georgina around her hip. Georgina pulled her face away from Olivia’s gently. Olivia turned herself around to be faced with Esmé, grinning ravenously, strap waiting around her hips. Olivia flicked her eyes downward and felt her mouth water.

“Now.”

It practically came out as a growl. It still surprised her, her insatiable desire. She was learning to embrace it of late, particularly when it got her precisely what she wanted.

_Needed._

Esmé looked up at her, now a good few inches below her, and pulled a corner of her lower lip into her mouth. She edged her fingers towards Olivia’s core and pressed the tip of her thumb over her clit. Olivia tilted her head back instinctively and was pleasantly surprised to find Georgina’s shoulder waiting to support the base of her skull. She smiled lopsidedly at Georgina before tilting her head back towards Esmé when she felt the contact dissipate. She watched Esmé drag her tongue over her thumb before tilting her hips and pushing the strap deep into Olivia’s core.

Olivia let out a small, “Oh,” before clenching her fingertips into the soft bedsheets around her.

Esmé inched her face closer to Olivia before stretching out the tip of her pointed tongue and running wet heat across Olivia’s neck. She flicked her eyes towards Georgina, dark irises wide and inviting.

Olivia screwed her eyes shut and focused on the scattered hands wandering across her hips. She wasn’t cognizant enough to place which of the two women the hands belonged to, but when the tips of several fingers dug into her flesh she gasped gratefully.

Esmé continued to thrust into Olivia, delighting in the small moans Olivia let out every time Esmé’s hips reached their eventual end.

Esmé purred, “You’re such a good girl.”

Olivia met her gaze. She could feel that the grin that crossed her face was wonky and probably deeply unattractive, but when she responded with, “Am I?” Esmé growled lowly and pressed herself against Olivia’s soft ribcage.

Olivia wanted to pretend like she was in a position to make demands. She wanted to pretend like she had the patience to draw this out. To slow Esmé’s hips to an agonizingly glacial pace and rock herself against them with her hands tangled in blonde hair. The heat that had settled itself deep in her core, however, wanted something entirely different.

She slid her arms around Esmé’s shoulders and buried her face in the slope of Esmé’s neck.

“More,” she whispered, sinking herself over Esmé’s hips with the kind of blind impatience she really only ever had when an orgasm was threatening to take a single moment longer than she could bear.

“More, Esmé, I want it harder.”

Esmé grinned devilishly and thrust her hips, hitting a spot deep inside Olivia that made her mouth fall open in silent ecstasy.

She gathered what little breath she could and moaned, “Georgina.”

Georgina pressed her lips to the back of Olivia’s neck, delighting in the soft give of warm skin, “Yes, my dear?”

Olivia let out a frustrated groan, “_Please_.”

Georgina exhaled a gentle laugh and obliged, deciding not to tantalize her when she was clearly already so deliciously desperate.

She tilted her hips and thrust into Olivia from behind.

Olivia gasped, “_Oh_,” she tried to pull together enough sense to form at the very least a string of coherent words but all she could manage was, “_fuck_,” as she felt Georgina’s strap enter her.

Georgina rocked her hips in tandem with Esmé and watched as Olivia’s head flopped forward onto Esmé’s shoulder, her falling around her face in dark sheets.

Esmé stretched out a long fingernail and tucked a strand of Olivia’s hair behind her ear, taking the opportunity to tail a line down the delicate skin of Olivia’s neck, leaving a raised pink line in her wake.

Olivia made a low noise in the back of her throat and ground her hips downward, desperate for more contact. Or for relief from the sensation, she couldn’t quite tell.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, her lips brushing against Esmé’s heated skin.

Esmé stretched out a slender finger and brushed the tip of her nail down Olivia’s sternum. She trailed it along Olivia’s rounded stomach and down toward her clit.

“Yes, yes, please,” Olivia breathed.

She felt Esmé press her fingers to her, and she clenched. Nerves raw and buzzing.

“I can’t, I can’t-” Olivia managed to gasp. The overwhelming pressure in her core from all angles filled her to the brim.

She felt Georgina pull away from her back gently, angling herself out of the other woman. Olivia shot out a hand to grasp at Georgina’s hip, nails scrabbling at the soft surface,

“Don’t stop, don’t you _dare_,” she growled somewhere into Esmé’s collarbone.

Georgina settled for a change in pace, slowing her movements and drawing out her thrusts agonizingly slowly. Olivia felt texture ripple into her as Esmé’s fingertips gripped her arms, holding her close.

“You’re fucking _gorgeous_, darling,” Esmé whispered into Olivia’s ear as her fingertips brushed against her clit.

Olivia knotted her fingers into masses of fluffy blonde hair, “Georgina-” she couldn’t find the wherewithal to complete the sentence, but she didn’t have to. Georgina danced her fingertips across Olivia’s ribcage up towards her collarbones, grazing her fingertips across Olivia’s nipples. Olivia hissed and arched into the touch, allowing her head to tilt back onto Georgina’s shoulder. Georgina dug her fingernails into Olivia’s soft flesh and leaned her head across to capture Esmé’s lips in a chaste kiss before sinking her teeth into Olivia’s neck.

Olivia whined and felt Esmé’s fingers press more insistently into her clit, circling her flesh Olivia rocked her hips as much as the aching within them would allow and came, tension of the day released with a guttural moan as she felt her limbs collapse from under her.

She felt the strong digits of four hands tense around her as she was gently laid back onto the bed, her head clouded by fluffy pillows. She was distantly aware of Esmé removing the pile of throw pillows from the bed and Georgina organizing toys to be cleaned. She kept her eyes closed and her head lolled back against the pillows until the two other women slid the blankets over her and weaved their arms around her waist. Olivia felt one woman’s face buried between her collar bones, and the other’s breathing softly against her jaw. She supposed she would only have to open her eyes to find out which was which, but she opted to fall asleep promptly after whispering a mumbled,

“Thank you.”

*****

Olivia awoke in an empty bed.

She padded the familiar hall to Georgina’s kitchen and entered to find a jarring, if not entirely unusual scene.

Esmé was straddled across Georgina’s lap, the pair artfully balanced on a barstool, the expanse of marble that topped the kitchen island behind them.

“Good morning,” Olivia offered, more as a warning of her presence.

“Good morning, Olivia,” Georgina answered, not peeling her eyes away from the blonde for even a split-second.

They did this sometimes. The two of them. Entered long periods of intense eye contact that were usually only broken by chaste kisses. Or far less chaste periods of other kinds of contact.

“That looks somewhat…” Olivia searched for a word, “precarious.”

Esmé neglected to respond, opting instead for, “Do you want to join us?”

Olivia shook her head, “No, thank you, I’m still sore.” She blushed and averted her gaze, not that it mattered.

“Then I suggest you perhaps leave the kitchen, my dear,” Georgina offered, trying her best to be tactful when the larger part of her brain was consumed by rabid lust.

Olivia rolled her eyes affectionately, “Yup, okay, fine,” she turned on her heel, “I’m going to have a bath. If I don’t see you before I leave, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

Olivia didn’t wait for a response, nor did she throw a glance over her shoulder, despite being able to picture, with perfect clarity, the scene she would have found there. She marched back up the staircase, and told herself that the warm, fuzzy feeling that sat low in her abdomen was some kind of warped lust, rather than the balmy love she knew was forming there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm aware this one took a while to finish but I'm glad I saw it through. I've got a couple more things in the works but idk it might be a while, adult life is hectic af. I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaaaaa okay okay this was supposed to be a one shot but ended up being way more than that so new chapter next weekend. I love Olivia with my whole heart she is soft(TM). Lmk what you think!!!!!!


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